Now We Are Five
by Plesiosaur
Summary: A sequel to 40 Weeks! Two twins, one adorable tiny demon-in-child-form, two cats, a puppy and two very stressed out mothers who wouldn't swap their houseful of chaos for the world. At the very least they're going to need a bigger bed. Real World Bubbline family sequel fic!
1. Chapter 1

**TA-DAH! Now we are five! I've been working on this in my head for sooo long and I had so many things to finish before I started writing it properly _and I still haven't finished them all omfg I am so sorry guys_. Getting there, I banana promise you. I've had... would it surprise anyone at all at this point if I just out and said I've been having some serious depression and motivation issues? And working on my original stories which I'm trying to get published, there's a lot going on right now. Deepest apologies when I take a while longer than usual to update.**

 **So! Also! Apparently my private message inbox was full and nobody could send me anything? I'm sorry! I deleted a ton of old messages now so if you were trying to send me something and it didn't go through, SEND IT ON! Also, if you are one of those lovely people who sent me a message over the app and are sad that you never got an email telling you I replied, it's because the emails are buggy af on the app. I replied! I love talking to you guys!**

 **Did you read 40 Weeks? Because _THIS IS A SEQUEL_. Every time I write a sequel I get at least one message from someone who doesn't understand what is going on because they didn't read the first story. Don't be that fanchild. This fic won't be as long, probably it'll be about nine or ten chapters, but I just couldn't stop writing about my favourite dork family. Omg I love them and their squishy dorklings so much. **

**Content Warning: Fluff, poop conversations, yelling, scheming, naughty kids, adorable kids, acts of toddler violence, mild peril, senseless confectionary destruction.**

* * *

"Mama. Mama. Mama. Wake up."

It was still dark and Bonnie did not want to open her eyes. But that insistent voice and the little hands prodding her shoulder were one of the few things in life she would never ignore, so she sat up with a sigh and flicked the lamp on. Ina squinted back through the sudden flare of light at her.

"What is it, sweetie?" Bonnie asked in a quiet voice. She knew they'd have woken Marcy too but at least there was still an outside chance her partner could get back to sleep. Her, probably not. But at least she wouldn't have to deal with a grumpy, tired Marceline over breakfast too.

"I need to poop." Ingrid announced importantly.

"Ok? So, go poop."

"But there might be a spider in the toilet."

"Sweetheart, come on, we've talked about this. If there is a spider in the bathroom you can come wake me, but you don't need to get someone to check every time." Bonnie sighed. Ingrid scowled, wrinkling her little nose and scrunching up her mouth comically.

"I'll tell Mummy." she threatened.

"That might work on your brother but I promise your Mum isn't going to put me on the naughty step." Bonnie told her, trying to keep the smile off her own face. It was just that her eldest daughter looked so adorable when she tried to be intimidating, like a perfect tiny copy of Marcy throwing a hissy fit about something.

"You wanna bet? Go check the bathroom for her." Marceline mumbled from her own side of the bed, eyes still closed but with a definite frown line across her brow. Bonnie sighed and slid out of bed. So much for using reason.

Ingrid grinned triumphantly and grabbed Bonnie's hand, towing her across the hall to the bathroom which as predicted turned out to be free of any creature with more than four legs. Peppermint blinked at them in confusion from where he'd been sleeping in the bathtub when the light flicked on.

"Do you think kitties talk about their people when they go out to lunch with other kitties?" Ina asked conversationally as Bonnie helped her up onto the toilet then slouched tiredly against the door frame.

"I don't know, sweetie, I don't think they really talk in the same way people do." she replied.

"Oh. Are we rich, Mama?"

"I... suppose, in a way. But, it's relative. That means that we're rich compared to some people but not to others."

"Kennedy at school is rich and she has a pony. She drewed a picture of it for show and tell."

"That's nice for her."

"Can I have a pony too?"

"No. Sweetie, we don't have the room or time for a pony, horses need a lot of looking after."

"I'm gonna ask Santa Claus for a pony anyway."

"It's another eight months til Christmas."

"I know that actually, Mama, because Christmas is in December and I learned the months but I think Santa likes when people talk to him the rest of the year too because he might get lonely. I'm going to write him a letter and send it to his house. How come some people don't have anywhere to live and ask for money in the street? If we're rich why can't we just buy them some houses so they can live places? Or why don't they ask Santa for a house? Or Jesus or the Easter Bunny?"

"Ingrid, sweetie, are you gonna use the toilet or just sit there talking to me?" Bonnie interrupted as gently as she could manage.

"I forgot to poop and now my poop got shy and it went back in my butt!" Ingrid told her with a big cheerful grin. "Let's go watch cartoons!"

"It's four in the morning. Let's go back to bed." Bonnie replied, scooping her daughter up from the toilet and pulling her pyjama pants back up.

"But I'm not tired. Can I come in your bed?"

"Are you gonna lie still and close your eyes?"

"Promise promise banana promise."

"Why banana?"

"That makes the promise extra special."

"...Ok. If you say so."

So they went back to bed and for the first ten minutes or so it seemed like Ingrid might actually follow up on her banana promise and go back to sleep. She was lying between her parents just as quietly as she'd said she would and Bonnie had high hopes of maybe getting a couple more hours of sleep before Sofia woke up for her morning screaming session. But of course she'd underestimated Ingrid's inexhaustible well of random questions.

"Mama, if you pushed food up your butt would it come out of your mouth as poop?"

"No, sweetie. That's not how the digestive system works. And it would hurt. Please go to sleep."

"But how do you know it would hurt? Did you ever try it, Mama?"

"Please, Ingrid, I'm really tired and it's sleepy time. No, I never pushed food up my butt. Now go to sleep."

"Ok."

Another few minutes of silence passed and Bonnie was just about to fall gratefully back asleep when-

"But it doesn't hurt when poop comes out so why would it hurt when food goes in? Mama? Is it normal that my butt doesn't hurt when I poop? Does yours hurt when you poop? Maybe we should try putting food in it, just to see what happens?"

Luckily Bonnie was saved trying to think up an answer by Marceline's helpless laughter on the other side of the bed. Next second her partner had sat up and wrapped their daughter in a hug.

"Come on, short stuff. Let Mama get some sleep, she has some important doctor stuff to do today and she really doesn't know much about butts. You should ask your Uncle Jake, he's a butt expert. You wanna go watch some cartoons?"

"Cartooooooons!" Ingrid sang happily, jumping up out of the bed and thundering out into the hall and down the staircase with so much enthusiasm her little body was almost vibrating. Marcy dropped a sleepy kiss onto Bonnie's lips and slid out of bed, too.

"Get some sleep, babe, you've gotta go kick butt at the ethics committee. Or shove something up them. Food, maybe, and then you can answer Ina's slightly worrying questions. I'll handle breakfast and the school run."

"You're the best, I love you." Bonnie murmured back tiredly. Her eyes were already closed again as Marceline tiptoed downstairs to turn the TV volume down and fetch Ina some juice and a snack.

...

Meal times were always a noisy affair when Ingrid was involved and that was something Philip was often grateful for. They shared that special bond twins often had and that was lucky because without it they might not have had anything in common at all. Their mothers often said the two of them were as different as night and day and Philip certainly felt like it. Ingrid was loud and curious and the only thing that rivalled her colossal self-confidence was her boundless energy. Philip was quiet and thoughtful, he liked to listen to people and think through what he was going to say before he opened his mouth. He was fascinated by learning and discovering, to Philip the whole world was one giant unsolved mystery that he was just itching to explore and unravel. If Ingrid had been anything except his twin sister she might not have understood, might not have accepted him as different from her but just as valuable. But she was his twin. And she knew at a glance what he was thinking and feeling, she knew when to cause a scene so that Philip could slide away undetected or how to negotiate a treat for them that was much more for him than her but that he'd never have felt comfortable asking for. Ingrid was the self-assured loudmouth that an introvert like Philip needed in his life and that morning it meant she was vocally complaining about Mummy taking them to school instead of Mama.

"But I want Mama kisses before class!" Ingrid was wailing around a mouthful of eggs.

"Darling, your Mama has to go to work early. She'll give you kisses before she leaves." Marcy replied over her shoulder as she tried to coax Sofia into taking a bite of food. "Come on, Blue Eyes, it's tasty. Mmm, yummy eggs."

Sofia was having none of it and shook her head violently, making her bright red corkscrew hair fly around her face furiously.

"Want chocca!" she yelled loudly, drumming her tiny fists against the tray of her high chair.

"Darling, chocolate isn't breakfast food." Marceline sighed. She cursed in her head silently that she'd ever let her father look after the kids overnight because he'd 'treated' them to sugary chocolatey breakfast cereal and now Sofia was refusing to eat anything else. It made no sense, Hunson had been scarily strict as a father and was apparently making it up by being the most lenient, indulgent grandfather ever.

"CHOCCA CHOCC CHOCC CHOCCY!" Sofia screamed at the top of her lungs, and she hurled herself against the side of her high chair over and over, trying to tip it onto the floor so she could run around and cause her usual level of havoc.

"I WANT MAMA TO TAKE ME TO SCHOOL!" Ingrid shrieked angrily.

"Girls, please, it's too early, use your indoor voices." Marcy begged them helplessly while they ignored her and continued screaming.

"ENOUGH! QUIET, ALL OF YOU!"

Even Sofia shut up; she didn't even notice Marceline taking advantage of the distraction by slipping a bit of scrambled egg into her mouth which she chewed and swallowed without complaint. Bonnie was standing in the kitchen doorway scowling at all of them with her blouse half buttoned and her hair all over her head in a mess.

"Ingrid, I have to go to a meeting then to a surgical consult then to a conference, I can't take you to school, I'm sorry. Sofia, we don't eat chocolate before lunchtime, eat your eggs like a good girl and you can have Mama's special pink bow in your hair, deal? Philip, did you think I wasn't going to notice?" she asked, turning to their son. He sighed and unzipped his book bag to reveal Cinnamon blinking sleepily at them all.

"He wanted to come to story time." Philip informed her timidly.

"Sweetie, you can't take him to school with you. What if one of your classmates has allergies? What if he needs to poop and there's no litter tray? The cats have to stay here."

Ingrid shared a disappointed scowl across the breakfast table with her brother; the plan was that she would distract Mummy until they were out of the house and he could smuggle Cinnamon into the car in his book bag. If Sofia hadn't pitched a fit about wanting chocolate for breakfast and made Mama come down before they were ready it would have worked. They'd have to try again some other time.

"Mama, are you gonna declare anyone dead today?" Ingrid asked in fascination as she stared up at her mother with adoring eyes.

"I hope not, sweetheart." Bonnie replied evenly as she poured out some more coffee.

Their eldest daughter had been in absolute awe of her since Jake had given them a book called 'My Mummy Is A Doctor' and Ingrid had fired off thousands of medicine related questions every hour ever since. For the last week or so she'd been very taken with the idea of declaring people dead and seemed to think it meant that when a doctor said someone was dead they were then honour-bound to die despite the many times Bonnie had tried to explain that wasn't how it worked.

"Coffee." the redhead muttered to herself gratefully as she drained her third mug of the morning and ran a hand through her recently shortened hair to at least make it look a bit like the spikes and waves were intentional. "Right, I have to run. You guys have a good day and I'll see you all tonight, ok? I love you."

"Love you, Mama!" Philip replied happily, clinging on for a hug as she reached over kiss the twins on the cheek and pull them both into a quick embrace.

"Bye, Mama!" Ina added.

"Have a good day, babe. Call if you get chance." Marcy told her when Bonnie straightened up to get her goodbye kiss. Marceline took a moment to fix the redhead's collar and brush a wayward spike of light red hair in the right direction before her partner was waving at them over her shoulder and disappeared out the front door.

"Right, have you guys finished eating? Upstairs and brush your teeth please." Marcy announced, herding the twins from the room and turning to Sofia to wipe the bits off egg off her face and pick one or two stray chunks out of her hair. The baby giggled and chattered nonsensically the whole time and despite that she was running on less than four hours sleep Marceline grinned back proudly. Their youngest daughter was so big already, it felt like only yesterday they'd been bringing her home from hospital and now she was talking and eating solid food and running everywhere like a tiny trouble-seeking missile.

Once they'd brushed their teeth it was a pretty smooth run to get the twins dressed and ready to leave the house and within half an hour they were all sitting in the car on the way to school. Marceline dropped them off at the school gates with plenty of time to spare, gave them both a kiss and a hug and then headed home before the traffic got really bad. She was just making her own breakfast and putting the TV on for Sofia when her mobile rang with a number she didn't recognise.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is that Dr Abadeer?"

"Speaking, how can I help?"

"This is Philip's headmaster, are you able to come up to the school and collect your cat? It seems he smuggled the poor thing in for story time this morning."

Marceline glanced into the lounge where her youngest daughter was giggling at the TV and oblivious to anything her mother was saying in the hall, before she let out a very quiet;

"That sneaky little _bastard_. Yeah, give me a half hour."

...

Once Cinnamon had been rescued from the sticky clutches of a room full of excited four and five year olds, Sofia had gone down for her mid-morning nap and Marceline had finally had a moment to actually eat something for herself she settled onto the sofa with her laptop for five minutes of peace. Which didn't really happen because the moment she opened her email there were fifteen messages from various parents of kids invited to the twins' birthday party asking small and annoying details. Where was Glasshouse, was there plenty of parking, was the food going to be organic, could their kid bring their random sibling who didn't even know her kids? Marcy had never realised quite how tedious arranging a birthday party for little kids was despite all Lady's warnings. She sent out a standard reply to most of the enquiries which pretty much repeated the same information that had been on the original invitations. With that done Marcy sorted some laundry, yawned, cleaned up the breakfast things, yawned, thought about doing various other small bits of housework, yawned again, and finally decided to go see how Sofia's nap was getting on. Naps... yeah, they were one of the better parts of staying home part time with their youngest daughter. Because it was totally acceptable for her to snuggle up and take a nap too and since Ingrid had kept her up since four that morning some extra sleep sounded very appealing. Luckily Sofia took after her Mama and didn't so much as stir when Marcy lifted her out of her crib and carried her into the master bedroom.

"Sweet little Baby Blue Eyes, don't you ever grow up and smuggle cats into school." she murmured tiredly to the baby, who wiggled in her sleep and curled a tiny pudgy fist into her Mummy's hair with a little sigh. Marcy took a moment to appreciate her daughter's face smoothed in sleep; the spattering of freckles across her cute button nose that were so much like her Mama's, the wild bright red corkscrews of her hair and her tiny mouth relaxed in sleep instead of twitching upwards into a mischievous smile like it was so often when she was awake. Sofia was their wild child. She'd already worked out that she was cute enough to get away with almost anything and with a scarily advanced intellect and a nose for trouble she was always at the centre of everything. She was definitely going to make her mothers prematurely grey and they'd already lost a lot of sleep worrying about her but it was worth it, Marcy reflected. Because Sofia was the naughtiest kid she'd ever met and also one of the sweetest and definitely one of the cleverest. But all parents thought that about their kids, right? As she let her eyes slide closed listening to the soft breaths of her daughter as she dreamed Marcy distantly considered that yeah probably all parents thought their kids were the best, but she was definitely right because her kids were just amazing.

"Mummy."

It might have been an hour or two later but she wasn't completely certain, all she knew was that her eyelids felt like they'd been glued shut.

" _Mummy._ Nanatee."

Oh _shit_. Marceline opened her eyes and stared around blearily. There was Sofia peering at her cheekily, perched on the end of the bed with Theresa who must have let herself in with Hunson's spare key, goddammit.

"Wakey wakey eggs-and-bakey! Rise and shine, Sunflower, I brought the twins' birthday cake." TT announced happily while Sofia bounced in her arms.

"Cake!" the tiny redhead shouted happily.

"I didn't hear you knock." Marcy murmured, sitting up and feeling a bit stupid that her father's partner had caught her napping in the middle of the day.

She shook her head to try to clear some of the sleep fog before swinging herself upright and following Theresa groggily downstairs to the kitchen. There was a cake box on the counter along with a bunch of actual sunflowers and Marcy couldn't keep back the sleepy smile that crept onto her face. Every time the twins had a birthday Theresa brought her the first sunflowers of the year, she called florists and suppliers and anyone she could think of to make sure she could find the right ones and Marceline didn't have the heart to tell the older woman she wasn't really that fond of sunflowers. Secretly she'd started liking them more now anyway.

"Ta-dah!" Theresa announced proudly, lifting the lid on the cake box. Pride was an accurate reaction to producing a cake like that, Marcy thought. It was a thing of beauty, it looked like the sort of cake that would form the centrepiece of a luxury baker's portfolio. It shone in the light with a diamond bright mirror glaze over vivid rainbow swirls and tiny golden stars; the whole thing was shaped like a smooth heart-shaped pebble with tiny spun sugar unicorns galloping around it and two little circles of five unlit candles standing tall on the top.

"Cake, Mummy!" Sofia breathed with huge, amazed eyes.

"It's not for you, Blue Eyes. It's for your brother and sister's birthday tomorrow." TT told her while the baby writhed against her hold and tried to fling herself at the magnificent cake.

"NO! MINE! MY BIRTHDAY!" Sofia screamed angrily.

"Your birthday is in August, darling. You can have some cake at the party tomorrow. Come on, let's go into the lounge and you can play with Nanatee." Marcy tried soothingly. She should have known what that look of steely determination and spark of pure malice in her daughter's eyes meant but she was still a little groggy from her nap.

" _No_. Want cake." Sofia whispered angrily. Next second she'd opened her mouth wide and before Marcy could say and single horrified word had bitten down as hard as she could on Theresa's hand.

...

"-and the upshot of it all was that Sofia spent most of the afternoon on the naughty step, TT had to run her hand under the cold tap and tape it up with your first aid kit to stop the bleeding, I had to barricade the kitchen door shut with the broom and now I have a migraine." Marceline finished with a sigh. "And you don't get to laugh about it because it isn't even a bit funny."

"I wasn't going to laugh." Bonnie promised, although the twitch at the corner of her mouth said otherwise.

"Your child is pure evil."

"My child? Why is she just mine when she bites someone but when she potty trains herself without any prompting at only just a year old you say how amazingly smart and advanced _our_ child is?"

"Because. Whatever. Shut up and give me kisses."

That end-of-the-day glass of wine on the sofa when the kids were all asleep and nobody was pulling anyone's hair or screaming for no reason or trying to give the cats a bath, that was the best time of the day, Marcy thought as her partner put down her wine glass on the coffee table and leaned in for some much needed affection.

"You wanna take this upstairs?" Marcy murmured against eager kisses and the familiar slide of hands across her hips.

"Mm. Kids are asleep?"

"Yup. Dead to the world."

"I think we can risk it then. Come on, beautiful."

It was as she was allowing herself to be pulled up from the sofa. Marceline froze, eyes wide and sensitive ears straining.

"What?" Bonnie asked quietly with a frown.

"Shh. Kitchen. You hear that?" Marcy whispered around a growing bubble of fear in her throat. Someone was moving around in there trying to be as quiet as possible, someone who hadn't avoided the creaky floorboard by the fridge.

"Wait here." Bonnie breathed, and silent as a ninja she tiptoed out into the hall.

"Bon! No, Bonnie! You're gonna get stabbed again!" Marceline hissed in horror.

Despite five solid years of therapy and regularly pushing herself to her limits in the gym Bonnie had never managed to completely let go of the irrational terror of helplessness that had descended on her when she'd been attacked by Dr King. What if he was out of prison early and had come for revenge? She reached up and took the dumb replica axe from some fantasy videogame Marcy had insisted on buying at Comic Con years earlier down from its mount by the stairs; it was just a replica and its edges were dull but it might still do a bit of damage if she swung it hard enough at whoever was in the kitchen. Their children were asleep upstairs, there was nothing she wouldn't do to protect them. Whoever had broken in had picked the wrong family to fuck with, she thought grimly. Something smashed and Bonnie shoved her fear away, focussed on protecting her family, and kicked the kitchen door open with a yell.

"FREEZE YOU PIECE OF-"

"Mama!"

The axe clattered to the floor out of her slack hands and Bonnie fell weakly to her knees. A complex cocktail of emotions was running through her; one part relief, two parts delayed terror, a dash of shock all shook together with the naughtiest kid who'd ever existed. Sofia was smiling angelically at her from where she'd pulled herself up into the open fridge and she was covered head to toe in rainbow streaked mirror glazing and cake crumbs. She held out a fist full of buttercream icing and vanilla sponge proudly.

"Yummy, Mama!" she announced with a giggle.

"Oh my God, the cake!" Marceline gasped from the doorway when she bravely followed a moment later. It was only because she'd completely failed to hear anything to suggest her partner was being horribly murdered that she'd delayed calling the police immediately. "Sofia, baby, how did you get out of you crib and downstairs and into the fridge? Bon, are you ok?"

"I- I thought-" Bonnie stuttered in shock.

"Mummy? Mama? Why are you shouting?"

A new voice from the stairs had Marcy whirling around in panic. Philip was standing in the hall in his dinosaur onesie rubbing his eyes sleepily and frowning up at them.

"There was a moth in the kitchen and Mama got a fright." Marceline lied smoothly, reaching out to catch the tired hug her flung around her legs. "Come on little man, it's bed time."

After Philip had been tucked back into his bed, given at least a hundred goodnight kisses and hugs, twenty sips of water, five lullabies and a few more kisses just for good luck, Marcy headed back downstairs with her head pounding worse than ever. Bonnie had at least come to her senses and was stripping the cakey pyjamas off Sofia and giving her a quick bath in the sink.

"Did you even tell her off?" Marcy asked with a frown. Now that the adrenaline had worn off she was just pissed at having her night ruined. It wasn't like she hadn't known kids were the ultimate cockblock but that didn't make it any more pleasant when it happened.

"She's eighteen months old, what good would telling her off do? And she's half asleep, it's the middle of the night. I'm just going to put her back to bed." the redhead sighed, not even turning around from where she was sponging the last of the sticky glaze out of Sofia's hair. Marceline sighed.

"Right. Ok. But we need to do something about the destroyed cake, we can't just leave it. Unless you want to deal with Ingrid's mega tantrum tomorrow when she doesn't have the dream cake at her party. Put Blue Eyes to bed and fetch my laptop, I'll preheat the oven."

"You're not seriously going to remake the entire cake tonight are you?"

"Yep. Yes I am. How hard can it be?"

"Probably impossible. Why not just call Theresa and ask for some help?"

Marceline levelled her with a stare that suggested her partner might be a bit stupid despite all the evidence to the contrary.

"Because it's almost midnight, she's fantastically old and may already have contracted rabies from being bitten by our little monster today. And there's no way in hell I'm telling her Sofia destroyed the beautiful cake she spent hours on. No, I'll remake it so damn well she won't be able to tell. You're putting Red Peril to bed and you're heading to the twenty four hour supermarket for icing supplies while I bake the cake base. Off you go."

"Night night, Mummy." Sofia told her sleepily as she waved over Bonnie's shoulder on their way out of the kitchen. Marceline sighed again and went to rummage in the cupboards for her baking supplies. This was so not how she'd wanted the night to end.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back, and here is the next chapter! There's not many notes with this one, except to say that I love and adore you guys for reading/reviewing/favoriting/lukring etc.** **Much love to you all, as ever the most rewarding part of writing is you guys.**

 **Quick name related content - according to a brief google search 'Brodie' means 'second son'.**

 **Content Warning: occasional bad language, more poop references because small kids are just adorable shit machines, feels.**

* * *

It was dawn. The house was almost silent, there were just the very soft sounds of three sleeping children, two napping cats, one dreaming adult and the horrified wordless staring of another who'd really genuinely thought that they had a small chance of fixing the cake without anyone noticing the difference. Marceline hadn't been to bed. While Bonnie napped on the sofa she'd been up all night baking and waiting for the base to cool before she put the icing and glazing on, trying to hand craft the tiny sugar unicorns by following online tutorials. The result was... she felt like crying really. It was a mess. Cake shaped, for sure, and shiny; it was covered in rainbow streaks and had lumpy four legged creatures splayed around the outside. But there was no way anyone was getting out of the birthday party with the impression that a professional baker had made it. She wiped a smudge of icing from one cheek and slumped through to the lounge, defeated.

"Bon. Wake up. I... we need to buy another cake." Marcy announced as she prodded her partner's shoulder despondently.

"Why? Did y'drop it?" the redhead asked sleepily after a second.

"No, it's just hideous. We need to do something. What if the other parents judge me? What if Ingrid has one of her tantrums? Oh God, it's the worst thing I've ever made in my adult life, I can't even go back in there and look at it. I'm a failure."

"Go t'bed. I'll sort the kids. Get a few hours sleep and it'll look better."

"No it won't. I've made the cake from the Black Lagoon, I don't see how sleep is going to do anything but make me more awake and more aware of how badly I've fucked up."

"Sleep. It's not even five yet. You've got hours, I'll stay up and fix something for breakfast, you sleep and then shower the cake batter out of your hair. We'll stop by the supermarket and get a cake on the way. TT'll understand."

Marceline trudged upstairs with a sour frown for the kitchen door, knowing full well that she'd just ruined her twins' birthday and she would never, ever forgive herself. She was still dead asleep the moment her head touched her pillow though.

It was almost ten by the time she woke to a suspiciously quiet house. Marceline really didn't want to get out of bed but she had to be at Glasshouse at one that afternoon and she needed to shower and drink all the coffee she could find before then so she rolled to her feet and stumbled off to the bathroom to wash, wondering if the kids were out in the garden or something. When she did venture downstairs with her hair still wrapped in a towel it was to find a note on the coffee table.

 _Took the kids out to the park so you could rest, we'll be back by eleven, cake is sorted. Please try not to stress. Love you ~B x_

"Cake is sorted. What does that mean?" Marceline asked nobody in particular. Peppermint was sitting on the arm of the sofa and fixed her with malevolent yellow eyes, she dropped a kiss onto his head before getting up and going to fix the coffee machine. The kitchen was spotless and there was no horrifying monster cake sitting on the counter so she assumed Bonnie must have already put it in the car, or tossed it in the trash and gone to buy a new one. She was onto her second mug of coffee and feeling a bit more with it when the front door opened and a gaggle of excited children rushed into the house.

"MUMMY! WAKE UP! IT'S MY BIRTHDAY AND MAMA FOUND A MARSHMALLOW TREE!"

"Philip, what have we said about yelling in the house?"

"But it's my birthday!"

"And you still need to use your indoor voice. Check the kitchen, I think your Mum is up already. I hope she made enough coffee for three."

"Oh I'd sin for a coffee. It smells divine."

"Wanna coffee!"

"Not until you're older, Blue Eyes. Ina, take those muddy boots off first please, I just swept the hall."

No mistaking that cacophony of excited kids and exasperated adult voices. Marceline grabbed two more mugs from the cupboard as the door opened and she caught Philip in a one armed hug.

"It's my birthdaaaaaay!" he crowed happily, bouncing up and down happily.

"I know it is, happy birthday little man. Happy birthday, Ina!" Marcy called out into the hall. "Did Mama find Nanatee as well?"

"Yes and a MARSHMALLOW TREE!"

"Philip, I don't think marshmallows grow on trees, darling."

"They do! Come see!"

"Careful, don't pull my arms when I'm carrying a tray of hot drinks. Here, take the cookie jar and we'll all have a snack, ok?"

Sofia was sitting in the hall industriously unbuttoning her dungarees and trying to strip naked; Marceline didn't even both trying to stop her. She just carried the coffee tray through to the lounge and shook the cookie jar Philip handed her. Sure enough a half naked baby came toddling through with her astonishingly sapphire eyes already fixed on the sweet snacks.

"Just one." Bonnie warned her as Sofia made to grab as many cookies as she could fit in her small hands. The little girl sulked and glared at her mother who stuck her tongue out. Sofia tried to maintain her sulk but she was overcome with reluctant giggles when Bonnie crossed her eyes and blew a raspberry at her.

"You wonder where she gets it from?" Marcy muttered under her breath.

"Mummy, Mama is being silly." Ingrid informed her in a world weary voice. She was sitting on Theresa's knee getting a hug and rolled her eyes like now she was five she was far too grown up for making her baby sister laugh.

"Bon, stop being silly. I can't believe you're so childish." Marceline admonished her with a theatrical roll of her own eyes. That only resulted in her being on the receiving end of a raspberry, too.

"Anyway, I'll have this coffee and I'll be off. I need to stop by the bakery before I meet you at the restaurant." Theresa announced. "Bonnibel told me about your... little mishap. Good thing I always keep a spare for occasions like this."

The kids had taken their cookies to the rug and were pulling out various piles of toys from the box by the sofa so they weren't paying attention to what the adults were talking about anyway. Philip was loudly complaining that he didn't want to play Lion King and he wanted to be Sleeping Beauty instead, he'd neglected to watch the uneaten half of his cookie and Sofia was stealthily creeping her way around his back to steal it.

"You have a spare birthday cake?" Marceline prompted quietly. She was resisting the urge to bang her forehead off the wall, she'd had barely any sleep and she never wanted to see a bowl of mirror glaze again.

"Of course. I know how tiny fingers can be, especially Sofia. That child's practically feral. In the best possible way, of course." Theresa replied with a fond smile for the tiny redhead now happily stuffing her brother's treat into her mouth.

"She's pure evil. Adorable, but evil. We love her to bits but... did you ever feel the urge to double check she doesn't have the number of the beast as a birthmark under her hair?" Marceline asked with a tired smile.

"Be nice, she's just curious about the world." Bonnie admonished quietly. Somehow she never seemed to be around when Sofia was being her worst and she was conveniently always a perfect little angel for her Mama.

"Babe, I love her beyond words but she's devil made flesh. She's cute enough to get away with it though." Marceline added before she turned to Theresa again. "Another cake... Uh. Thanks for thinking of it, TT. We owe you big time. Right, I gotta fix my hair and round these little monsters up."

"I'd better make myself scarce then. Thanks for the coffee. I'll bring the replacement down to the restaurant, don't worry about that." TT told her, standing and gathering her empty mug. She swooped down with kisses for the kids before collecting her umbrella and bag in the hall and letting herself out with a sunny 'Cheerio!'.

Marceline was just brushing through her hair after blow drying it and about to run through her final pre-party check list when she heard a childish shriek from downstairs and heaved a sigh. Her kids, she loved them but they drove her crazy sometimes.

"MAMAAAA! SOFIA ATE MY COOKIE!"

...

The screams and shrieks of almost fifty four and five year olds echoing through Glasshouse was definitely giving Marceline a headache before the replacement cake was even cut and the two sets of candles were blown out. But it was worth it to see Ingrid running around leading a pack of kids in games and Philip shyly sitting showing his birthday presents to his small circle of close friends. Bonnie was perfectly at her ease chatting with the other parents and that left Marcy free to nurse her coffee and supervise the afternoon's activities. There were party games and buffet food as well as a ball pool and soft play area; Jake was a veteran of more kids' birthday parties than he cared to remember and he knew exactly what would be most popular with that age group. The man himself was there too, no way he was missing his godchildren's birthday. He'd roped Kim into helping and the lanky twelve year old was reluctantly allowing Ina to dress him in the set of princess costume jewelry she'd been gifted. He avoided his father's eyes as one of Ingrid's friends pulled some lipstick from her mother's bag and ran over to him but gamely let them give him a makeover anyway. With three younger sisters it wasn't his first time wearing makeup and a tiara.

"First time he brings home a date I'm telling them all about this." Jake announced, coming through from the kitchen with the uneaten birthday cake boxed up.

"You're cruel and unusual." Marcy replied distractedly. Jake patted her back with his free hand sympathetically.

"Didn't get much sleep?" he asked.

"You could say. Sofia was predictably Sofia and I was predictably me and that lead to me having about fifty per cent less sleep than I usually like. I'm fine though, I got a nap and I have coffee, I'll live."

"The sacrifices we make for our offspring. Speaking of, aren't you solo parenting it next week?"

Marceline groaned, she'd almost managed to forget that Bonnie would be away at a conference for a couple of nights. She would be working on the first day and the twins would be in school, Sofia would be at nursery and everything should be fine. The second day was Friday and she'd be home alone with Sofia until three when the twins needed picking up from school. That wasn't so different from her usual Friday routine. The real test was going to be the Saturday because Bonnie wasn't due home until the evening and she had all three of them all day and despite her best efforts everyone on the street knew discipline wasn't her strongest character trait.

"Muuuum." an interrupting voice whined, and she knew what he wanted before she'd even turned to him.

"Philip."

"Muuuum can we go home now? I had a nice time but I want to go someplace quiet now."

Sometimes Marcy worried about what a natural introvert her boy was but he seemed perfectly happy that way so she let him having his quiet time when he wanted it. But Ingrid was still tearing around the ball pool like a tiny sugar-crazed hurricane and there would be a tantrum of epic proportions if she was forced to leave early. Luckily Uncle Jake swept to the rescue.

"Hey little guy, I was just about to start prepping the vegetables for tomorrow's carvery, you wanna come help in the kitchen? You can peel some carrots." he added with a grin. Any other kid would probably have pitched a fit at leaving their birthday party early to go cook with their uncle but Philip's eyes lit up. He regarded what Jake did in the kitchen as nothing short of magic.

"Ok!" the little boy enthused, trotting after his uncle through the swing doors into the kitchen.

"Philip, wear an apron! Jake, make sure he wears an apron! That's his best shirt!" Marcy called after them with a shake of her head. She'd have added 'and be careful with the knives' but even at her most overbearingly parental she knew there was no need since Jake would be supervising and Philip was the most meticulous child she'd ever known.

Her musing were cut off by a high pitched scream of what five years' experience told her was a tired tantrum kicking off from one of their party guests. He was a chubby cheeked little boy with a bush of tight yellow-blonde curls sticking straight up off his head and making him look unfortunately funny. That was a kid who had trouble getting taken seriously for sure, Marcy thought.

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" the boy yelled, stamping his foot and looking around presumably to assess how many adults were paying attention.

"I WANT IT TOO IT ISN'T FAIR!" he screamed again when nobody came over to intervene. Just as Marceline was wearily unfolding from her chair to go see what he was kicking up a fuss about, Ingrid trotted over with a bemused expression on her face and spoke to the boy in a voice too quiet for her mother to catch. For a couple of seconds it looked like Ina had it all under control but before anyone could jump forward and intervene her face darkened with what Marcy recognised as a flash of deep anger and Ingrid's little hand connected with the boy's mouth in a resounding _slap._

"Ingrid Erin Marceline Sugar you apologise right now!" Bonnie exploded from the corner she'd been standing in talking with some of the other parents. With a face like thunder she strode forward and caught hold of her daughter's arm before she could land another blow on the howling boy and marched her off to one side, crouching down to deliver what was probably the parent lecture of the century. Nobody had come to claim the boy so Marceline ended up crouching down by his side with a quiet sigh. He'd sat down hard in shock and was crying unrestrainedly, huge fat tears accompanied by an impressive amount of mucus and saliva that dribbled down his red face and just made him look sillier than ever. Marcy fished out the travel pack of baby wipes she'd stashed in her pocket and deftly wiped him clean before he'd ever finished crying.

"Lollipop?" she asked softly, holding out a sugary treat to him. He took it and for a couple of minutes they just sat quietly while he tried to figure out how to cry and suck on his candy at the same time. It turned out to be harder than he'd anticipated and Marcy allowed herself a quiet smile of triumph when he gave up on sobbing and hiccuping because it was getting in the way of his treat.

"I'm sorry Ingrid slapped you, she has a terrible temper sometimes. But are you having a good time apart from that?" she asked when he didn't say anything. The boy shook his head, eyeing her warily. Marcy gathered as much softness into her voice as possible before she asked, "Why not?"

"S'not fair." he mumbled again. "How come Ingrid and Philip get to have two Mums? I want two Mums too."

Well, fuck. There was usually nothing Marceline wouldn't do to cheer up a sad kid but leaving Bonnie, tracking down the boy's presumably straight mother and somehow convincing her to go gay so she could be his step-mother was just a little bit too much even for her. Instead she considered what to say.

"You know, I'm sure there are tons of kids who'd love to have a family like yours too. Why don't you tell me about your family?"

"Nobody wants a family like mine. My Dad is horrible and so's my uncle. I miss my Mum but I only get to see her every other weekend. I want two Mums too and then I wouldn't have to live with Dad and Uncle Brodie."

So Marceline spent the rest of the twins' fifth birthday party sitting on the floor next to the ball pit letting the boy whose name she discovered was Elon Hope pour out his tiny five year old heart about his parents' bitter divorce and his family's difficult living circumstances which had lead to him and his father moving in with his weird uncle to save cash. It broke her heart that a child so young should know so many of the unpleasant details of his parents' relationship breakdown. By the time a lot of the parents and kids were saying goodbye Elon was beginning to glance around nervously, obviously expecting his father to be there to collect him some time soon. And sure enough a tall, sallow looking man was striding towards them with a scowl on his face; Elon leaped to his feet and stood with his back straight and his eyes on the floor.

"Get your jacket, come on. I don't have all day to hang around." the man snapped. Perhaps he'd just not seen Marceline sitting half in shadow next to his son because he jumped like he'd had a shock when she unfolded gracefully and drew herself up to full height, almost eye to eye with him.

"Actually, I'd like a word if you have a minute. I'm Ingrid and Philip's mother." she told him coolly. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, she wondered how much he knew about their family.

"Which one?" the man asked in a tone of thinly veiled contempt.

"The one who'd like to speak to you right now. Marceline. Or Dr Abadeer if you prefer."

She held out her hand and he had no option but to squeeze it briefly before making a show of looking around behind her.

"And is your _wife_ not around, Dr?"

"My _partner_ is right over there, helping your boy fetch his jacket and getting him an extra slice of cake to take home. I'd like to invite Elon for a sleepover with our two next weekend." Marcy continued like she hadn't noticed the cold way he was acting. She could see the dots connecting behind his eyes; a night with local kids meant no out-of-town visit with his mother and which was worse, letting Elon see her or letting him play with the kids of queers? Besides he'd have a whole night alone that way. Finally the man nodded.

"Of course. He'd love that, I'm sure."

"Excellent, well you have our contact details from the party invitation but just in case you forgot them, I have a business card. I do some private tutoring." Marceline explained as she handed him a card. He took it with a frown.

"Doctors do private tutoring these days?" he asked, quite rudely in her opinion.

"Doctors of orchestral arrangement and classical music do. You must be thinking of my partner, Bonnie's the medical doctor. We're technically both doctors. I know it must be confusing."

He might have said something that crossed into open rudeness then but Elon had appeared back by his side, clutching a little take away party bag with a couple of small toys and what Marceline suspected were at least three extra-large slices of cake in there.

"See you next weekend, Elon. Nice to meet you, Mr Earl." she said, turning from them with a pleasant wave to thank some other guests for coming. Bonnie caught her eye from the other side of the room and smiled a little slyly; after thirteen years together it was almost the same thing as being psychic and they'd agreed on a plan of action long before any words were spoken out loud.

...

"I DON'T WANNA!"

"Ingrid, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. Elon Hope is coming for a sleepover next weekend and you're going to apologise for slapping him and you'll play nice and be his friend." Bonnie told her calmly as she parked the family car and cut the engine.

"I won't. I hate him. He smells and I don't wanna be his friend." she sulked, sticking out her bottom lip.

"I'm sure he's very nice when you get to know him." Marcy added. She tried to win Ina over with a warm smile but the little girl just sulked harder and turned away with a pout on her face.

"He can borrow some of my pyjamas." Philip piped up. And that's when their parents knew they'd won; the only person who could talk Ina into anything at all was her twin.

"Fine." she muttered angrily although a lot of the heat had gone out of her voice. "But he has to sleep in your room."

"Ok. I'll let him cuddle Mr Bat." Philip agreed. Ingrid scowled out of the window at the buildings rolling past but didn't bother trying to argue with him, she knew her brother was immovable once he'd made up his mind on something. Their parents exchanged a silent glance of shared relief and the rest of the journey passed in relative silence. Until they got home, of course. There was a familiar truck parked up in front of the house and Marceline swallowed down her annoyed huff because she'd made a promise a little under five years ago and so far she'd stuck to it no matter how hard it had been. Ingrid obviously recognised the truck too and was swinging on her door handle before Bonnie had even stopped the car despite the child locks holding it closed.

"UNCLE NED IS HERE!" she shrieked happily, bouncing in her seat.

"HE BROUGHT US PRESENTS!" Philip joined in.

"WAAAAHHH!" Sofia added, just because she liked noise. Marceline's headache sharpened to an insistent whine in the back of her brain at the volume and the sudden tension in her jaw caused by an unexpected Ned visit but Bonnie was smiling warmly so she supposed she'd just have to suck it up.

"Where are my birthday niece and nephew?" Ned asked the moment the car doors were opened to release the shrieking kids.

"Uncle Ned! I'm five!" Ingrid shouted. "Mama did us a party and Uncle Jake made food!"

He caught her in a hug as she flung herself at his legs and lifted her onto his shoulder as if she weighed as much as a kitten. Marceline scowled harder than ever, she was winded just carrying her daughter up and down the stairs these days. Philip had come forward grinning shyly at his shoes and was swept up with the big man's other arm into a bear hug.

"You're so big now, you're almost as big as me!" Ned told them both with a grin. "And where's my little Sofia? Huh? There she is! Come give your uncle a kiss!"

Bonnie had unclipped Sofia from her car seat and carried her over to her brother for him to make a fuss of, leaving Marceline to mutter to herself sulkily and get the bags of presents out of the car. She'd unlocked the door and dumped the bags in the hall when there was a squeal of childish delight behind her and she sighed, wondering what Ned had brought them as a present. Then she stiffened in horror because mixed in with the high pitched laughter was excited yapping of the variety that she genuinely hoped only belonged to a very lifelike toy dog.

No, when Marceline turned around there was an actual fluffy white puppy galloping in circles around the small front garden and wagging its tail so hard it skidded in the corners. Sofia was clinging onto Bonnie's neck and for once she seemed like she didn't know what to make of it but the twins were tearing around after the puppy laughing like crazy. Bonnie looked up, caught her partner's eye and flashed her a sheepish smile. Marceline narrowed her eyes. If her girlfriend had known about the puppy ahead of time there'd be hell to pay.

"Found this little champ in a box at the roadside a few weeks ago, I took him home and nursed him back to health but he doesn't get on with some of my older dogs so I can't keep him. And then I remembered two very lucky little people having a birthday who might have some extra love to give a little homeless pup. What do you think?" Ned was telling them.

"He's the best present ever!" Philip squealed. Then he flung himself down on the ground and let the puppy lick his face enthusiastically while he laughed and laughed.

Marceline found the words 'there's no way we can take a puppy' dying in her throat when she saw how much her son and daughter loved him already. Even Sofia was beginning to overcome her surprise and was reaching down curiously like she wanted to investigate the strange new creature. She avoided Bonnie's eyes because the redhead was smiling at her knowingly and instead went inside to put the kettle on and take some more headache pills. So, they had a dog now. Of course they did. Because calling ahead and asking if it was ok to give the twins a real live animal that took a ton of looking after was apparently too much work for Ned, unless his sister already knew in which case Bonnie would find herself sleeping in the kitchen with the puppy that night, Marcy decided.

...

There were tears before bedtime but that was to be expected after the long and stressful day they'd all had. At least the kids were already fast asleep, Marcy thought despondently as she snuffled to herself.

"What's wrong, love?" Bonnie asked quietly, coming to sit on the edge of their bed with a frown.

"They're so _big_. Where did the last five years go? What happened to my sweet little babies, who gave them permission to grow up?"

"They're still pretty small."

"But they're not really. They're getting bigger every day. Ingrid's already as sarcastic and cynical as your average world-weary forty year old and Philip can tie his own laces and bath himself and everything, it's like they don't need us anymore. Tomorrow what if we wake up and they're twenty and moving out?"

"We'll still have Blue Eyes for a little while longer. Besides if they're moving out you'll get your music room back." Bonnie told her with a teasing smile.

"You're not as funny as you think you are." Marceline scowled. "I mean it; it feels like someone put time on fast forward. Today they're five, tomorrow they're thirty five and choosing our nursing home."

"You're thirty five and your father doesn't live in a nursing home." Bonnie pointed out, still smiling.

"You know what I mean, stop being an asshole."

Marceline flung herself down on her side huffily and pulled the blankets up over her shoulders. Bonnie sighed but let her have her bad mood, instead the redhead got up and disappeared to the bathroom to brush her teeth and run through her pre-sleep routine. She'd hoped that by the time she came back to bed after checking on the kids her girlfriend would be in a better mood but she was wrong, Marcy was curled up on her side with her back to the door and her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Bonnie got into bed and when she slid her arms around her partner to pull her into a hug there was no resistance.

"What's all this about?" she asked quietly after a minute or two of silent, shameful crying.

"Nothing, it's stupid." Marcy replied in a whisper.

"It's obviously not nothing, and you're not someone who cries over stupid things. Love, come on. What is it?"

Marceline turned her face into the pillow and muttered something too quiet for her girlfriend to hear, but Bonnie did a quick mental calculation and employed a bit of her famous intellect to figure it out anyway.

"You got your period on the same day as your twins officially left toddlerhood behind and you're feeling sad and hormonal that they're not little babies anymore and you don't want another baby exactly but you sort of do and you worry that even with all the blessings we have you'll regret it if we don't try for baby number four before it's too late, something like that?"

Marceline nodded and relaxed just a tiny fraction into her partner's hug.

"It's not like I think we need another baby. It's not like I even miss being pregnant because it wasn't all that fun a lot of the time. I just... I miss them being babies, you know? I miss having them around every second of every day and watching them discover the world. Now they go to school and when I ask how their day was and what they did I get maybe a couple of words in reply. I want to know what they ate, who their friends are, what they played and read, how it made them feel. And they just want to watch cartoons." she finally sighed. Bonnie nodded, she got it.

"You're feeling nostalgic, it's normal. But aren't you excited to see what sort of people they grow into? Every day they get a little bit bigger and they're learning to be the people they'll finally become as adults. I think that's pretty amazing to watch."

"It is, I never said it wasn't. I- urgh. I can't explain, I'm looking forward to all the future stuff but I miss the past too. It's dumb."

"Come here, it's not dumb."

Marceline let herself be pulled closer and wriggled around until she was face to face with her partner. In the low lamp light Bonnie looked like she was made from different shades of gold, rose gold in her hair and pale gilded skin set with a fine dusting of coppery freckles. Sapphire eyes alight with just as much fierce intelligence and mischief as Sofia had inherited gazed back at her but they were lit with love and sympathy, softened a little with the almost invisible lines that had accumulated over decades. Marcy sniffed again and let Bonnie gently wipe the last of her tears away.

"I feel like I'm not useful to them anymore." she finally whispered.

Bonnie opened her mouth to reply and was interrupted by a wail from Ingrid's room.

"Mummy! Mama! Lord Barkington did a poop on my rug!"

"See, you're not useless, love. You can go clean up a nice warm pile of dog shit." Bonnie told her with a quiet grin. Marceline groaned but gamely sat up and slouched out of bed.

"Yay, we already have a fourth baby. A canine baby. And he comes with all the added fun of not wearing specially lined panties to keep the poop in one place. Lord Barkington, seriously. We need to rename that dog. Didn't we leave him in the kitchen with newspapers spread out to do his business on?" Marceline sighed.

"Yes, we did. I can only assume Ingrid decided he would be lonely and smuggled him upstairs. Still want another tiny trouble maker?" Bonnie asked, eyes sparkling.

Marceline didn't favour her with an answer, just rolled her eyes and went for a nice relaxing pre-sleep dog crap clean up instead. It wasn't as good a feeling as feeding a newborn but then it wasn't quite as horrific as the first time the twins had synchronized with explosive diarrhoea either. And Ingrid demanded an extra cuddle and a lullaby before she would lie down and sleep again so by the time Marcy got back into bed she was feeling a tiny bit more secure that their eldest children might need her around for a little longer, a few more years at least.


	3. Chapter 3

**Head down. Face forward. Press on. I've got my own stuff going on right now but I'm just gonna focus on my writing and keep doing what I'm passably good at which as it turns out is not having interpersonal relationships. I won't bore you guys with the details but suffice to say I am not in a great place right now. That's ok though because I have survived worse and I will survive this. The soundtrack to my life right now is an Alanis Morrisette song called Simple, give it a listen sometime if you enjoy depressing music. Anyway, on with the show.**

 **This chapter introduces a familiar character, that's right it's Susan Strong! *Applause!* But she doesn't have the same backstory as previous times I've written her, so and long-time readers who expect her to be like La Vie Susan will need to adjust their expectations. I have plans. Also I refused to rename her, because, uh, nuh? Makes not much sense.**

 **As ever, reviews would brighten my day no end. Send me love, I love you guys.**

 **Content Warning: medical language, baby snot, a conversation I unfortunately had to have with my 5 y/o goddaughter almost word for word, attempts to explain inequality to small kids, a mention of Mr Pink Feathers which is legit a children's book I'm looking for an illustrator for (any illustrators wanna work on a book?).**

* * *

Normally Friday afternoons meant getting the kids from school, getting them fed and ready to go spend a night sleeping over with either Hunson and Theresa or Simon and Betty after school. But with all her usual lucky Marceline had managed to pull her solo parenting short straw on the same weekend that both sets of grandparents had plans, so she was home alone with the kids instead of having a very rare night out catching up with Jake. She'd considered having a glass of wine once they'd gone to sleep but had decided against that pretty much immediately. What if something happened that required her to drive? She might still be under the legal limit but there was no way Marceline was getting behind the wheel with a single drop of alcohol in her blood if any of her children were sick or injured, it was just asking for trouble. Instead she'd decided to have a quiet night watching a film and getting some rest before the twins' sleepover the next night. She was watching Sofia out of the corner of her eye while she fixed the kitchen, ready to leap in between her youngest daughter and the puppy if things got too rough. So far it had all been fine but Marceline knew Blue Eyes too well to let her guard down. Her phone started ringing in her pocket and Marcy put down the dishes she'd been shelving from the drying rack to answer it.

"Hey babe. How did the speech go?" she asked, not bothering to check the name because nobody but Bonnie ever called through the day anyway.

"Hey! It was good, I met some researchers who might be onto the next big thing for multi-drug resistant neurosarcoma treatment in adolescents. We're all heading out to lunch now, I thought I'd call before I go and check everything is ok at home. How are the kid?"

"Philip slept in our bed last night, he had a nightmare. Ingrid told me I don't understand her because I tried to put the wrong kind of braid in her hair and weirdly Blue Eyes has been pretty good today unless you count this morning when she poured a whole glass of juice over the puppy. I'm tired, babe. I woke up with Philip's feet on my face and I miss you. And I have no idea what the big cancer word you just said means but I'm glad you conference is going well."

Bonnie sighed down the line, it was obvious she didn't enjoy being away from home any more than Marceline enjoyed solo parenting.

"It's a type of nervous system cancer and it currently doesn't have a great prognosis in kids, so if we could find a more effective chemo course for it that would boost ten year survival rates it would be a huge strike against the kind of cancers I see every day. I realise this is probably boring you. But I'm glad the kids are doing ok, love, try to get some sleep? I worry about you."

"I did try to sleep. It's just our little man gets kicky when he's dreaming and he's like cuddling a hot water bottle, I don't know how such a small body can give off so much heat. I'm gonna finish cleaning up here and start planning dinner, since-"

"Oh, that's my ride to the restaurant. I'll call later, love you!"

"Love you too, have fun." Marcy replied a little dejectedly. Bonnie had hung up the call almost before she'd finished saying the words and Marceline sighed and slid her phone back into her own pocket. It wasn't that she resented her partner having a fancy lunch with professional contacts or driving all over the country because people wanted her to speak at their conferences or... Ok, she might resent it a little. Marcy had given in without much of a fight and allowed her music room to be converted into Sofia's bedroom, abandoning plans to add an extension onto the back of the house because a six month pregnant Bonnie had had a meltdown when she realised how much of her precious garden it meant giving up. So instead they'd had the garage converted into a practice room although it was a lot less comfortable and still half full of various parts of old lawn mowers and gardening equipment the redhead swore she was going to use again someday. Marceline hadn't been able to commit to any serious orchestral practice since the twins were born, hadn't gone back to work full time or done much with her career except treading water. Sometimes she missed being the fabulous rising star musician that conductors came from big name orchestras to court, she missed the soloist spotlight and the prestigious venues. And then Sofia tugged on her trouser leg, holding her chubby little arms up for a cuddle. Marcy remembered who she was doing it all for. Their youngest daughter would only be a year and a half old once in her life but the orchestras would still be there when Blue Eyes was done needing her Mummy to pick her up and snuggle with her.

"You know I love you more than anything in the whole world, right?" Marceline told her daughter as she lifted her up off the floor.

"Love you, Mummy." Sofia whispered back, sleepily like she was ready for her afternoon nap. She sounded a little stuffy too, like she had a bit of a cold, and that should have given Marcy a clue. But somehow she was still surprised when she came back downstairs from putting her daughter down in her crib and Lord Barkington came trotting over wearing a huge streak of pea green mucus across his head where Sofia had presumably sneezed on him. Marcy found a corresponding sticky mess in her hair where the little girl had wiped her nose during their cuddle and she suffered another brief pang of loss for the days when she'd been professionally important and never found anyone else's snot about her person.

...

"Chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga, choo choo! Come on, open up for the nom nom train, Blue Eyes."

How was it possible that at not quite twenty months old Sofia had already perfected Bonnie's sceptical I'm-smarter-than-you look? Surely that wasn't genetic? But the little girl resolutely clamped her lips tight shut against the spoonful of mashed potatoes and shook her head furiously.

"She doesn't want a train in her mouth." Philip piped up from his own dinner.

"Ok, what form of transportation would you recommend?" Marceline asked him in frustration. Her son didn't pick up on her tone though because he just stared into the air thoughtfully for a while.

"Spaceship." he replied with an innocent smile. It was impossible to stay in a bad mood when the kids were being adorable though so Marcy smiled back and picked up the spoon again.

"Oh no, Captain Blue Eyes! We've lost control of the spaceship and it's dangerously close to the Baby Mouth Black Hole! I hope it doesn't get sucked in!"

Yeah, of course the way to get Sofia to eat was to appeal to the destructive streak in her nature. She opened her mouth wide and happily swallowed the spoonful of potato, and didn't even complain when the next spoonful had some strained peas and carrot hidden on it.

"You wanna try holding the spoon?" Marcy asked hopefully. Sofia grabbed it and smashed food around her little plastic plate happily, leaving her mother time to grab a couple of bites of her own dinner. Something wasn't quite right though.

It was too quiet, Marcy realised. Normally she was trying to fend off a thousand questions a minute but today her eldest daughter was staring down at her dinner prodding it moodily with her fork.

"Ina, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." she replied when she looked up and found her mother's eyes still on her face

"Don't you feel well?" Marcy asked worriedly. She got up and came around the table to press the back of her hand against Ingrid's forehead. "You don't feel warm, do you have a sore throat?"

"Uh, my head hurts." Ingrid replied, avoiding her eyes. "May I be excused?"

"Of course, darling. Go get into your PJs and we'll read your school books on the sofa."

Marceline watched her daughter slouch out of the dining room with her shoulders slumped and her feet dragging. It looked like more than a headache to her but she wasn't an expert, just typical that one of the kids would get sick when their doctor mother was away. She turned to her son who was now investigating the leftover pieces of fishcakes on his sister's abandoned plate.

"Philip, eat your vegetables before you take leftovers, please. Did something happen to Ingrid in school today? She doesn't seem herself."

"Uh, we had group reading and she had to read." he shrugged. "An we drewed pictures of flowers. My flower was purple." he informed her around a mouthful of peas from his own plate. "I played with Toby at lunch and his brother was there. He's called Harry like Harry Potter and he's two whole years older than Toby."

"That sounds lovely. Did something upset your sister though?" Marcy pressed. She had to be gentle, Philip was still sensitive and easily distracted.

"Dunno. She was talking to Kennedy and Lily-Mae and then she sat with Kurt. I like him, he has snacks."

"Why does Kurt have snacks? Never mind, it's not important. I've heard Ina talk about Kennedy before, are they friends?"

"I think so. I dunno, Kennedy is mean to everyone because her Dad is richer than everyone else's Dad. But Ina told her we have a Mama instead and I think they're friends now. Kurt got diabetes so he has to have snacks in the day. I wish I had diabetes too and I could eat cookies in class."

"And Lily-Mae? Is she their friend too?" Marcy prompted, choosing to ignore her son's wish to have a debilitating medical condition for the time being. Sounded like this Kennedy kid would be one to keep a close eye on.

"She's the prettiest girl in the school. She has eyes like Aunty Lady."

"Like, East Asian?"

Philip nodded again.

"I finished my peas, Mum. Can I have Ina's fishcakes now?"

"No, sweetie. I'll put those in the fridge, she might want them later. But you can have a yogurt instead or some fruit. Do you wanna come read with us?"

Philip took his yogurt into the lounge while Marcy cleaned the splatters of potato and flaked fish off Sofia's face before setting the dishwasher away and coming through to read with her older two. Blue Eyes followed and snuggled on her Mum's lap with a twin on each side and a copy of Ingrid's reading book from school, Mr Pink Feathers Teaches Class. It was one the twins already had at home but it hadn't quite been read out loud that many times that Marceline had memorised every single word unlike some of their other books. It was some fanciful story about a flamingo being a substitute teacher for a day and the lessons the class learned from him, mostly about recognising everyone's individual strengths or something. She flipped to the first page and held a finger under the first word, waiting for Ingrid to start reading.

"One day Miss Melody was sick. The head teacher said Mr Pink Feathers was coming to cover for the day. The kids were confused because that was a strange name." Philip recited from memory, not even looking at the page or the illustration of cartoon children scratching their heads surrounded by question marks.

"Philip, let your sister do it." Marcy admonished him gently.

"Uh... Who is... Mr Pink Feathers?" Ingrid read out uncertainly. "That is a st-s-r-ss..."

"Break down the word, darling." Marcy interrupted gently. "Just the first bit here, 'str'."

"Str." Ina repeated.

"Ange"

"Ange."

"Ok, and if we put those two sounds together, what does the word say?"

"Str... ange?" Ina tried.

"It says 'strange', Ingrid!" Philip interrupted in frustration. "It says 'Who is Mr Pink Feathers? That is a strange name. Said Freddie.' We read this one before."

"Philip-" Marcy began, but next second Ingrid had knocked the book out of her hands angrily and thrown herself up off the sofa.

"I don't care! Books are stupid and Mr Pink Feathers is stupid and reading is stupid and you're stupid, Philip! I hate you and I wish I didn't even have a dumb brother!"

"Ingrid you apologise right now!" Marcy shot back at her. But Ingrid turned on her heel and marched upstairs. A moment later her bedroom door could just be heard slamming shut over the sounds of Philip's crying and Sofia joining in out of solidarity.

...

"Ina, can I come in? I brought you a snack."

"Go away!"

Marceline hesitated, unwilling to enter her daughter's room without permission because she remembered how much she'd hated having her privacy invaded as a child. But Ingrid was clearly not just suffering a headache and if it was something serious then her mother really needed to know, that was much more important than privacy, right? She'd try being smart about it and then if that didn't work she'd have to go in even if Ingrid didn't want her to.

"I wonder if Lord Barkington will eat cheese strings then?" Marceline asked her daughter's closed bedroom door.

"His name is Boris Bones. Do you really have cheese strings?" Ina replied, opening the door a crack and peering out.

"Sure, I brought one each. Thought you might like to have a hug and a snack and talk about what's bothering you."

The door opened further and Ingrid retreated to her bed, throwing herself down with a huff and holding out her hand for the cheese string. Marcy handed it over and sat next to her. They stayed silent for a few minutes while Ingrid industriously pulled her cheese apart, tied it into a little bow and finally ate it before eyeing the untouched one in her mother's hands. Marcy gave it to her with a small smile.

"I'm not really into cheese strings." she confessed. "Too old. You have to be a kid with a brilliant imagination to enjoy them, I think."

"Like coffee." Ingrid agreed.

"Yeah, like how I like coffee and you kids think it's yucky. So, what happened at school today?"

Ingrid sighed and pushed her thumb through a split in her cheese string. She didn't reply straight away and Marceline put a comforting hand on her back.

"Was someone mean to you?" she prompted.

"Mummy, am I a bastard?" Ingrid asked quietly.

"Darling, who told you that word? First of all, it's a bad word and we don't say it. Second, technically a lot of people are bastards. It just means that their parents aren't married to each other, it's like an old fashioned insult. If we lived a hundred years ago it would have meant something but not anymore. Your Mama and I love each other and we wanted to have babies together and we didn't think getting married was important for that so we went ahead and had you and your brother and then Sofia too. People have babies because they have a lot of love to give and they want a family of their own. Marriage isn't important for that, it's nice if that's what someone wants but it isn't necessary anymore. Whether your Mama and I are married or not doesn't mean you're anything less than anyone whose parents are married. Do you understand?"

"But Kennedy said bastards go to hell." Ingrid whispered with tears in her eyes. Well, they'd deliberately picked a school that didn't come with any religious attachments and it looked like that stupid bullshit had found their kids anyway. Marcy allowed a small and well-hidden portion in the back of her brain to scream the worst swears she could think of while she rubbed comforting circles on her daughter's back.

"And if Kennedy said that redheads were evil would you stop loving your Mama?" she asked.

"No! But that's not the same, she said it said so in the bible!" Ingrid wailed.

"And the bible is not... Baby, it's just a story. It's an old story from a long time ago but you have to remember that while some people think it's real, a lot of people know it's just a story. It was something that kings and rulers used to keep people in line hundreds of years ago, it was a way for the church to justify all the money they asked people for and it was a lot of other things too over the years depending on who needed something from it. If you were a bad person who made money from performing weddings and you could read the bible but all the other people in your village couldn't, you'd tell them that because the bible mentions being married that they had to do it or their children would suffer, right?"

"But why would they let a bad person do their weddings?"

"Because some bad people are good at hiding it when they want to. But the point is that the bible is just a very old story that a lot of people have used for lots of different reasons over the years, including to make money out of other people and control what they do. We know better now, we know it's just a story. And you are perfect just the way you are, Ina. You're my daughter and I love you. One day I might marry your Mama, or I might not. But we're perfectly happy like this, right? So next time Kennedy tells you something is bad because the bible says so, just remember that she's too young to have read it for herself and made up her own mind, and that whoever told her that might have said it for their own reasons. It's all called having an agenda, when someone makes you believe or do something because they want something from you. And I never want you to be influenced by someone else's agenda because you're a smart girl who can make her own choices."

Ingrid sniffled the last of her tears away and nodded. Marceline let out a very slow, quiet sigh. In truth she'd been dragged to church as a child more times than she cared to remember and the private school her father had sent her to had come with its own attached chapel, she'd joined the choir just for the vocal training that came with it. But Marcy wasn't about to sit back and let someone else's religion screw up her baby. They'd talk about it more, she decided. Bonnie would talk to Ingrid when she got home too; her mother was still quite active in the local church and Frau Sugar hadn't taken it at all well when her teenage daughter had skipped Sunday school to go on a date with a girl from her Math class. Maybe it was naive but Marcy really hadn't been expecting to have to defend her kids against the corrupting influence of people with a religious agenda just yet.

"Mummy? Did Philip eat my fishcakes?"

"No darling, I put them in the fridge. You want me to warm them up and we'll finish Mr Pink Feathers together?"

"Mhm. And I need to hug Philip and say sorry because I yelled at him."

"Good girl. Come on, then."

Ingrid allowed her mother to lift her up and give her an extra close hug before they went back downstairs together to apologise to her brother and finish her dinner.

...

Elon Hope arrived on Saturday lunchtime and Marceline barely concealed her scowl of disapproval when his father's car pulled away from the front of their house without the man himself even getting out to see his son safely to the door. But it didn't matter because the minute the car was gone the front door was open and the little boy's eyes widened in amazement.

"Mum?"

"Elon! Surprise!"

The blonde woman ran out to meet him and scoop him into a hug. Marcy pulled Ingrid and Philip back from the window where they'd been watching.

"Come on guys, give them some privacy. I'm sure they have lots of catching up to do." she told them quietly.

It hadn't been hard to track down Susan Hope, who was in the process of changing back to her maiden name. She'd been more than happy to come visit her son at his school friends' house rather than the run down studio flat she was renting in the next town over so Marceline had driven over and fetched her that morning. Anything that helped a little boy connect with his mother, she knew how confusing it was when a parent just disappeared and nobody took the time to explain what was happening.

"Mum, why can't Elon live with his Mum?" Ingrid asked sadly.

"Because she doesn't have a safe place for him to live right now."

"But why not?"

"Because it's about money, and not everyone has enough money to have everything they want. It's really sad but the world we live in isn't equal. Some people love their kids so much but they don't have enough money to look after them right so they have to let them go live with someone else. I can't imagine anything worse. And you guys are very lucky because if your Mama and I ever did break up we'd both be earning enough money separately to take good care of you no matter who you lived with."

Philip was quiet while he digested all of that, picking up his stuffed bunny toy thoughtfully and turning it over and over in his hands.

"But why doesn't Elon's Mummy have a job?" he asked after a while.

"She does, she works in the supermarket. But it doesn't pay very well." Marcy tried to explain. It was tough, she didn't want to spend too long discussing another family's financial problems with the kids but they also needed to understand how lucky and privileged they were to have two mothers who both earned a very comfortable wage.

"So then why can't she come work with you?" Ingrid piped up.

"Because we don't need anyone to come work for us right now, and the university needs to employ people who have the right qualifications. Do you know what a qualification is? It's when you get a special certificate to say you can officially do something. Your Mama and I both have a boatload of qualifications but Mrs Hope doesn't. So there's less stuff she can do for a job."

"Like my swimming!" Philip said excitedly.

"That's right, little guy. Like your certificate to say you can swim. The important thing is to respect that Elon loves his Mum and doesn't get to see her as much as he wants, so he's going to come here and we'll all have days out together so he can see her more often."

Philip sidled closer to Marceline and wrapped his arms around her neck until she lifted him onto her lap. He was getting too big to hold the way she had when he was a baby but it was still wonderful when her shy boy wanted to snuggle.

"Please don't break up with Mama though, Mummy. She wouldn't be able to make dinner without you." he whispered into her ear.

"I promise, we're not even thinking about breaking up. But you're right, your Mama would probably starve without me to make dinner for her. And I'd probably forget to pay the bills without her." Marcy agreed.

They spent a really nice afternoon with Elon and Sue in the park while the older kids ran around screaming and looking for sticks and Sofia found a muddy puddle to fling herself headfirst into within five minutes. And for once Elon had some time with his mother without his abrasive father hanging over them and ruining everything with his snide comments and permanent scowl. It was getting towards dinner time by the time they headed back home. Sofia was too tired to walk so Marcy hoisted her up onto her shoulders and tried to ignore the sensation of dirty puddle water and mud rubbing against her hair. Philip was overtired and hanging off her arm like a dead weight and Ingrid was loudly ordering Elon to carry her best stick for her, which he gamely gathered up with his own bundle of twigs.

"She's got real leadership potential." Sue observed with a wry smile

"I guess, or you could say she's bossy. We love Ina very much but she can be a handful at times. Bonnie's always so careful to reinforce the kids' self-esteem but I don't think Ingrid needs it so much. She's confidence personified." Marcy replied. She couldn't keep back the proud grin from spreading across her face, she could have talked about what a little miracle her eldest daughter was for hours.

They rounded the corner to Philip's squeal of delight ahead of them.

"MAMA'S HOME!"

Even decades later watching him race up the street and with a running leap land in Bonnie's outstretched arms was one of the most vivid memories Marcy had from when her twins were five. Even after everything else that happened that year, it was just a single perfect moment in time that crystallised in her memory.

"-and we found a stick, Mama, and Boris Bones peed on the rug, and Elon's Mum is here and we saw another puppy in the park and he was a brown and white spotty puppy-" Philip was babbling happily as Marcy approached and let a wriggling Sofia down from her shoulders.

"Sounds like you've been busy! Hello, love." Bonnie added, putting Philip down and kissing Marcy on the cheek. "I brought take out, save you the hassle of cooking. There's plenty to share."

"Mama, this is Elon's Mum. She's staying for dinner." Ingrid told her importantly, pointing at the blonde woman hanging back at the end of the drive.

"I wouldn't want to intrude-" Sue started nervously.

"We'd be happy to have you, I brought plenty of food. Come on inside, let's get the kettle on and get Blue Eyes out of those dirty clothes."

Good company, good food and only a minimal amount of children screaming was a perfect way to end a Saturday, in Marcy's opinion. Even better when she had her partner's arms wrapped around her again when they went to bed that night and instead of being blanketed in a low key undercurrent of panic at being the only responsible adult alone with three tiny troublemakers. Elon was camped on the floor of Philip's room and they boys had eventually fallen asleep after giggling to each other in for hours after lights out. Finally the house was quiet, calm again and she felt secure.

"Missed you." Marcy murmured sleepily into the darkness.

"Missed you, too." Bonnie replied quietly. She briefly tightened her hug around Marcy's shoulders and brushed a kiss onto the back of her neck before closing her eyes and letting sleep wash over her. Nothing was better than being home in her own bed surrounded by her family.


	4. Chapter 4

**I want to take a moment to thank my reviewers, such wonderful and caring people that you all are! Seriously, I can't say I necessarily feel better but I appreciate knowing you guys care.**

 **And speaking of, a quick note to a guest reviewer! Normally I try to answer questions in private messages but since you're an anon I'll just put it here. Sofia's surname is Sugar, same as all the kids. There will be some further explanation about how the family is set up later in the story but just to avoid confusion I'll give you a little background here. Biologically she's the twins' half-sister since she was conceived with sperm from the same donor, all the kids have the same surname to avoid complications for things like passports and school applications. So while Phillip and Ingrid are a quarter Indian and genetically half Danish, Sofia is half Danish and a quarter German. Because ethnicity isn't complicated enough?**

 **Content warning: lies to children. Very brief reference to historical sex, tiny people sulkiness, sick kids.**

* * *

Bonnie had promised herself years ago when they'd first started talking seriously about having children one day that she would never be the sort of mother who lied to her kids. Not about the ice cream truck playing music when it was sold out of ice cream, not about Santa Claus if they asked; nothing. No little white lies for any reason. So far as she knew it was a rule her own father had managed to stick to for the duration of her and Ned's childhoods. She was rapidly coming to the conclusion that if he'd had to parent Ingrid and Philip he would have been lying out of his ass before they'd even gone to kindergarten though.

"Boris Bones!"

"His name is Buddy McButt!"

That argument had raged on all night and if the note that was sent home from school the next day informing them that the twins had been fighting in class was anything to go by it still wasn't resolved twenty four hours later. By Tuesday bed time she was sorely tempted to intervene, but they were playing together happily enough so perhaps the fight was finally over. Buddy, that was a good name for a dog. They'd just quietly drop the "McButt" from his name.

Except that by Wednesday morning Philip had changed his mind. Again.

"Come here, Stormo!" he called, tossing a bit of his egg down from the table for the puppy who came bounding through excitedly from the kitchen.

"Philip, sweetie, don't feed the dog from the table. I thought his name was Buddy? I thought you guys had agreed?" Bonnie asked with a weary sigh.

"He didn't like being called Buddy, Mama. He prefers Stormo." Philip informed her like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Stormo is a good name." Ina agreed around a mouthful of egg. Bonnie and Marcy shared a quick confirmation glance; they could live with Stormo if that was what the kids wanted to call their puppy. After all, he was their present. It would have been lovely if Ned had called first to let them know but her little brother was not known for his ability to plan ahead.

"Right then, Stormo. I'll stop by the pet store and get him a name tag for his collar on my way home and we'll call the vets' office and have him booked in to get neutered on the weekend." Bonnie said. And she naively believed it.

The day flew by as her days at work always did and she'd almost forgotten she was supposed to be going to the pet store on the way home, it was just lucky that Marceline texted her to ask her to pick up more of the fancy cat treats too while she was there. So she drove across town to the retail park and bought cat treats, puppy food, a book about dog training and a shiny new name tag engraved with 'Stormo' in curved script.

"I'm home!" she called up the hall as she pushed the door closed with one hip and tried not to spill the bags of pet supplies filling her arms.

"Mama!"

"Hello Blue Eyes, I missed you! Were you a good girl for Mummy?"

"I'mma circus." Sofia informed her proudly, pointing to the tiny little top hat that she was wearing courtesy of her older siblings' dress up box.

"You mean you're the ringmaster, baby. Are you playing circus?"

"NO! I'mma circus!"

"Ok, well, you're a very good circus. I got a present for Stormo, is he in the lounge?"

"Hey, babe." Marcy greeted her with a tired smile from the sofa. How did she manage to make being draped in a tiger skin blanket look stylish? "We're playing circus. I'm a tiger."

"So I see. Did you guys eat already?"

"Yeah, I saved you some stroganoff though. It's in the fridge. Did you get the cat treats?"

"Yup, and I picked up a name tag for Stormo too." Bonnie called, already on her way to investigate the leftovers in the kitchen.

"We changed his name again, Mama! He's called Maximus Doggo." Philip shouted after her. Bonnie sighed, she should have seen that coming.

"Sweetie, you need to pick one name and stick to it. He's going to get confused." she told him when she came back through to the lounge with a tray of reheated dinner.

"Maximus Doggo!" Philip said firmly.

"No, he should be called Bella Ballerina." Ingrid replied hotly.

"Bella is a girl name!" Philip protested.

"So? It's pretty!"

"It's stupid!"

"You're stupid!"

"You're stupid times a million!"

"Guys, come on, please. I'm trying to eat dinner, I've had a very long day and-"

"Mama, tell Phillip dogs can have girl names too!" Ingrid wailed. Bonnie sighed and put down her fork. Her stomach was rumbling, she was tired and had a headache, she still had some notes to type before she could sleep and she genuinely didn't care what the dog was named so long as it was just a single name that they stuck to. So did something she'd never, ever done before. She told a little white lie.

"Marcy, can you grab my mobile out of my bag, please? We'll fix this one way or another. Guys, I'm going to call the dog hospital and see if we can get a copy of the puppy's birth certificate, ok? And we'll see what his name was when he was born."

"But Uncle Ned said he found him in a box." Philip said curiously, with far too much insight for a five year old in his Mama's opinion. Usually she'd have been terribly proud of her boy pointing out logical inconsistencies. Tonight she just wished he wouldn't notice stuff so much.

"Yes, Uncle Ned did say that, didn't he? Uhh, well, we'll have to do some digging and see what records we can find. I'll give Lydia a call, she can find any hospital records really fast." Bonnie explained, hoping her face didn't give away that she was improvising wildly. Marceline handed her the mobile phone with a look that was trying very hard not to be smug. Bonnie ignored it and pretended to dial her secretary.

"Hey, Lyds. Yes, it's me, Bonnie, your boss. Yes, I'm just fine. I need you to look at the dog hospital records and find out the name on a puppy birth certificate for me. He's around five months old, curly white hair, maybe part poodle and he came from the woods near Uncle Ned's cabin. Oh, you shouldn't have any trouble tracking that information down for me? That's brilliant. Thanks, bye!"

She pretend-ended the call before either of the twins demanded to talk to Lydia too or noticed that there was nobody speaking during the pauses in the conversation.

"She says she should have that ready by tomorrow morning for us, we're very lucky that the dog hospital keeps such good records. Now if you guys let me finish my dinner and are both ready for bed by the time I'm done we can read together. Deal?" she asked the twins wearily.

"Ok! I'm gonna go put my pyjamas on." Ingrid agreed happily. "Can we visit the dog hospital one day, Mama?"

"Maybe, we'll see. Go get ready for bed then, and take your little sister up with you."

"So, Colonel Sugar raised a liar after all." Marcy began in a teasing voice once the kids trooped upstairs.

"Don't start. I had a really long day and I'm sick of them changing the dog's name all the time, poor thing must be so confused. I just want to eat in peace, is that so evil of me?" Bonnie asked around a mouthful of food.

"Nah, I'm proud of you, babe. It takes balls to go back on a promise to yourself, even a dumb one. I'm just glad you're not beating yourself up over it. I lie to them all the time, like about that time Ingrid walked in on me giving you that very thorough back rub? One day she's going to work it out and be horrified but I just didn't think four years old was the right age for her to find out her mothers have sex. Parents lie to their kids, Bon. For good reasons most of the time. Don't get too hung up on it."

"I didn't want to be that kind of parent." Bonnie muttered as she finished her food and set her tray on the coffee table.

"Nobody does. But sometimes you have to, to keep them safe from being traumatised or to stop them renaming the puppy every five goddamn minutes. Come on, we'll read to our little monsters and then we can make a pretend dog birth certificate." Marcy said encouragingly as she helped her partner up off the sofa.

Bonnie just sighed again and ran a tired hand through her hair. Mostly she just felt guilty that she didn't feel more guilty.

...

"So the puppy's name is Schwabl, see it says right here on his birth certificate. His mother was called Sally and his father was called Max and he was born exactly five months ago. So now we know what his name is and we'll need to keep calling him that. Right?"

Phillip was staring at the pretend birth certificate they'd mocked up for the puppy with huge eyes like it was a pirate's treasure map. Bonnie had a moment of panic, wondering what she'd gotten herself into, but she didn't have a lot of time to worry over if because if she didn't leave soon they were all going to be late and she hated having to rush the school run.

"He had a Mummy and a Daddy." Phillip gasped. "Maybe he misses them! Mama, we should write them a letter so they can come visit him!"

Briefly Bonnie had a vision of two well dressed, professional looking dogs knocking on their door with presents for their long lost son, like some bizarre Disney movie. Probably that's what Phillip was thinking.

"Dogs don't really keep in touch like humans do. He's almost a grown up in dog years so I doubt he even remembers them anymore. Come on, we needed to go five minutes ago. Put your shoes on please."

Phillip ran through to the hall to find his school shoes but the look in his eyes told her he hadn't let go of his idea about reuniting Schwabl with his birth parents. She'd been so exhausted by the time she'd finished her work notes and a few chores around the house and then put together a fake puppy birth certificate that Bonnie had just gone on a random pet name generator and copied down the first suggestion. She wished she'd taken a little more time with it and maybe chosen something easier to pronounce, like Ben or Rex or something. But at least the puppy had a name that wasn't going to get changed.

Sofia was wailing at the top of her lungs and fighting getting strapped into her car seat. Ingrid was running through a thousand questions a minute about why horses wore horseshoes and why were they called cowboys when they didn't ride cows and why did bad words get invented if you're not supposed to say them? Phillip was trying to investigate the many dials and buttons on the car's dashboard because Bonnie had stupidly let him sit up front with her and she had to keep taking her eyes of the road to stop him turning on the seat warmers or loading the built in sat-nav to take them to the other side of the country.

"Sofia, please, stop! You'll be out of your seat in a minute, just wait! Ingrid, they're called cowboys because they herd cows, horseshoes protect horses' hooves when they go on the roads and I don't know where swearwords come from, I'm sorry. Phillip if you touch one more button you're not allowed to sit in the front for the rest of the month, are we clear?"

"Mummy never yells at me." Phillip replied sulkily.

"Well, Mummy had to go into work early and it's my day off. So you'll have to make do with me." Bonnie replied.

She tried to keep the frustration out of her voice but Phillip was still glaring at her like he wished she didn't exist when they parked a short distance from the school gates and they made their way to the yard. Ingrid allowed Bonnie to give her a goodbye kiss on the cheek but Phillip just narrowed his eyes and walked off in the direction of the sand pit instead leaving his mother confused and a little hurt. He was just having one of his temper tantrums but it still felt like a rejection of her as a parent and deep down that was something Bonnie was terrified would one day be an issue for him. She'd had more than one stress nightmare where the twins were grown into teenagers and yelled that she wasn't even their real mother and she didn't get to tell them what to do. It was typical teenage stuff but it didn't make it any less scary a prospect to have to deal with. Especially where Phillip was involved. He was the only boy, she'd been quite hoping that Sofia would be a boy too to balance out their family a little more but of course everything about Blue Eyes was stubborn and contrary. And Phillip was so sensitive, he held onto things that hurt him a lot longer than other kids his age and he observed the people around him much more closely than most five year olds. Bonnie was worried that once puberty started messing around with his hormones he'd develop into the kind of guy who held grudges and knew the best way to hurt the people around him just with a few words. She was acutely aware that Marceline could have a nasty streak during arguments and if Phillip had inherited that along with her artistic disposition he had the potential to be very accurately cruel and hurtful. Bonnie hoped his tendency to worry about others' feelings would balance that out though, so far he didn't show any signs of being deliberately cruel to anyone. Even still, she was quiet and thoughtful the whole drive home which was mercifully quiet since Sofia had finally fallen asleep in her car seat.

…

It was almost two in the morning and the house was silent save for the slow sleep-breathing of five humans and three pets. And then there was the rustle of bedsheets and an erratic kind of footfall like the walker wasn't completely sure what was happening or where they were going. It wasn't loud but it was just enough to wake Marceline a little. She listened through the vague after-haze of a dream but there didn't seem to be anything moving around so maybe she'd imagined it. Sleep had almost closed over her again when there were small, hot hands tangling in her hair and a child's voice muttering by her ear. She was abruptly awake and hastily sitting up and switching the light on.

"Phillip?"

"...need a pen…" he mumbled, eyes still mostly closed. "…be brave…"

Bonnie was awake now too, squinting through the light and frowning around at them both.

"S'happening?" she muttered through dry lips.

"He's burning up." Marcy replied worriedly. Phillip's eyes opened more fully as she pressed a palm against his sweaty forehead and he was crying before he even really knew why.

"Mummy? I feel sick." he sobbed, holding his arms up for a hug. Marcy gathered him up and lifted him onto the bed; his skin was far too hot and he was sweating and shivering with a fever. And then she noticed his pyjama pants.

"Bon? I think he needs to see a doctor." Marceline said quietly to her partner, glancing down significantly with her eyes so Phillip wouldn't notice and get even more upset. Bonnie sat up too and followed her gaze. The front of Phillip's pyjama pants were a cheerful creamy yellow covered in cartoon birds, except the area around the crotch which was darkened with what looked suspiciously like half dried and diluted blood. A quick sniff confirmed it.

"Sweetie, did you have a little accident?" Bonnie asked him softly while Marcy carefully stripped him out of his pyjamas.

"I d-don't know." Phillip hiccoughed. "I don't f-feel well. My pee-pee hurts."

So instead of an early night and being well rested for her consultations in the morning Bonnie found herself rolling out of bed and pulling on her yoga pants and a hoodie while Marcy dressed Phillip in some fresh pants and a light t-shirt to help combat his fever. It made sense that she'd be the one to take him for any kind of medical assistance while Marceline stayed with their girls. No point disturbing the whole family's sleep unnecessarily. Fifteen minutes later she was yawning into her hand and swinging her car off the drive while Phillip shivered and whimpered in the seat next to her.

"Don't worry, sweetie. We're going to go see the doctor in the urgent care centre and get you some medicine, it looks like you have a urinary tract infection. They're very common in kids your age. I know it hurts but you can be brave, right?" she asked him distractedly, taking one hand off the wheel to smooth down his cheek comfortingly.

"I'm glad you're my Mama." Phillip told her thickly, still obviously a little confused from his temperature and sleepwalking. "You're less mean than my last Mama."

"You mean your Mummy? But she's not mean, is she?" Bonnie asked, confused.

"No, my last Mama. From before I was dead, when I lived with the other family in the little house. My tummy hurts, Mama."

Ok. So. At least Bonnie could be glad that it was her Phillip had decoded to go into full horror movie mode with her and not Marcy who still firmly believed in ghosts and past lives and God knew what other nonsense. Bonnie was certain it was the fever talking; maybe an older kid at school had told him a scary story and he was repeating part of it or he'd picked it up from something he'd seen on TV or read somewhere. She knew one thing for certain though, the existence or otherwise of paranormal phenomena like past lives was still a sore topic between her and Marceline and she wasn't going to bring it up and start prodding at old wounds. It was with definite relief that they pulled up at the hospital. Phillip was humming to himself tunelessly around the occasional grimace of pain and staring out into the night with unfocused eyes that were bright with fever. Bonnie wasted no time taking him out into the cool night air. His skin felt hotter than ever and he shivered in her arms, unwilling to let go and walk for himself.

After checking him in on the front desk they took a seat in the waiting room and Bonnie let Phillip snuggle into her and just spoke to him quietly, soothing him with anything that came into her head. If she stopped talking for more than a few seconds he got wriggly and distressed again so while they waited she cast around for topics that might hold his interest.

"Did you know that you were just the sweetest little guy when I was pregnant with your baby sister?" she asked for lack of anything better to say.

"You was pregnant?" Phillip asked in surprise.

"Yeah, you don't remember? You were only just three so you might not really remember it. But you used to kiss my tummy and say night night to the baby before you went to bed. You used to whisper secrets into my tummy button so only the baby could hear, it was really lovely."

"Mummy had me and Ingrid in her tummy." Phillip replied, nodding tiredly.

"She did. You know, you Mum wanted a little baby of her own ever since the first time she met your big cousin Kim. We went to the hospital to see Lady and Jake and the new baby and they asked your Mummy to be his godmother. And I could see from the way she was smiling at him when Jake passed him over for a cuddle that she wanted a baby of her own. We're so lucky to have you and your sisters." Bonnie told him quietly. She smoothed his hair back from his forehead and was relieved to feel that he was cooling down a little. The head he laid on her shoulder was beginning to grow heavy with sleep again before the on-call doctor finally waved them through into her examination room.

"Well, little Mr Sugar with a fever and some haematuria, hmm? Any pain in your back, son? Ok. Sounds like a lower urinary tract infection. Ok, Mrs Sugar, I'm going to write your son up for a course of antibiotics, he'll need to take five millilitres of trimethoprim twice a day for-"

"Wait, you're not going to examine him? Ask about previous UTIs or dip a urine sample and confirm the presence of leukocytes?" Bonnie interrupted with a frown.

"It's a clearly presenting UTI, his notes are right here. A urine dip hardly seems necessary. I understand you have concerns, Mrs Sug-"

"Doctor."

"...I'm sorry?"

"Doctor Sugar. As in, Doctor Sugar who works in paediatric oncology upstairs? I'm in and out of the staff lounge all day, you've not seen me around?"

There was a certain amount of dark satisfaction in watching the colour drain from the other woman's cheeks as she glanced over Phillip's notes again, the ones she should have already read thoroughly. Bonnie could almost see her lips silently spelling out the title 'Doctor' in front of her name when she focused on it. Phillip was staring up at his mother in bleary eyed wonder and the pallor of the on-call doctor's face was rapidly being replaced with a blotchy blush.

"Doctor Sugar. Right, yeah. Uh, I think we'd best get your son onto antibiotics right away? If there's blood in his urine, you know. In case the infection is acute and gets worse quickly? So there's no need for a dip, unless you think he needs it?" she asked in a small voice.

"I'm sure you know what you're doing, doctor. Trimethoprim?" Bonnie prompted, keep her face completely free from the self-satisfied grin she could feel trying to tug the corners of her mouth upwards. It hadn't escaped her notice that the on-call doctor was deferring to her and phrasing every statement like a question now that she knew she was dealing with a departmental head. Probably she was terrified, Bonnie considered. Well, tough for her. She shouldn't be cutting corners on patient care even if it was the middle of the night and the diagnosis seemed obvious.

They finally headed back to the car with a bottle of antibiotic suspension for Phillip and there was obvious relief in the on-call doctor's 'goodbye' as Bonnie carried her son out of the urgent care centre with his arms around her neck.

"Mama? Is the lady doctor scared of you?" he asked as she helped him into his car seat.

"If she was doing her job properly she wouldn't have to be scared of any other doctors." Bonnie replied, keeping her voice soft because he was obviously half asleep again.

"When I get big I want to be a doctor too and know everything, like you."

"And if you still want to be a doctor when you get older I'll help you prepare for your exams and apply for hospital placements. But you know, your Mum and I will be proud of you whatever you choose."

They drove home in silence and Bonnie was sure Phillip was asleep by the time she pulled onto their driveway. But his eyes were still half open when she went to open his car door and he was gazing at her thoughtfully.

"Mama?" he asked as she carried him back into the dark house.

"Phillip?"

"Does Mummy make doctors scared too?"

"Probably, yes." Bonnie replied with a smile. Not for the same reasons, but Marceline could be intimidating enough without a medical degree.

"Oh. Maybe I'll be a music doctor and make doctors scared with my cello then." he mumbled.

Phillip barely woke long enough to use the bathroom, take some painkillers and change into some fresh pyjamas for bed. But he clung on tight and shook his head when Bonnie tried to carry him back to his bedroom so she just kissed his cheek and retreated to her own bed. He nestled down between his mothers with a sigh and Marceline opened one eye, smiling at them and reaching out to smooth Phillip's hair from his brow.

"Did the doctor give you some medicine, darling?" she asked sleepily.

"Mhm. And Mama knows everything." Phillip replied, although he kept his eyes shut.

"Yeah, she's magic like that." Marcy agreed. "Love you."

Bonnie wasn't sure which of them her partner was talking to or if she meant them both but it didn't matter, Marcy had plenty of love for everyone in their family. Even though she had to be up in the morning, even though she was tired and annoyed at the on-call doctor for not being as thorough as possible, Bonnie fell back asleep with a contented smile on her face and the room was soon full of the quiet breathing of three people resting peacefully.


	5. Chapter 5

**OK so I know I've been so slow updating this story and guys, I am so sorry. I know I tell you this a lot but I have legitimately been ill. Again. Three different kinds of ill, so yaaay crappy health. But I'm on the mend, I have pain killers and meds and I'm waiting to see a specialist about my rubbish spine so hopefully soon I'll be able to walk properly again.**

 **No real notes to go with this chapter, except that there is some foreshadowing and momentary, minor peril in this chapter. If I could ever find some who wanted to illustrate for me I'd definitely be down to write a full version of Maru And The Mystery Poo, as well as the other kids' book ideas I've got stored away in my brain meats. And as ever, if you feel the urge and want to leave a review I'd be very grateful, always nice to know that people enjoy my work.**

 **Content warning: mild peril, mentions of mystery poo, implied alcohol and very very lightly implied hetero sex, some German that I put through google translate because I'm the worst sorry guys, minor terror, foreshadowing.**

* * *

"UNCLE FINN! YOU'RE BACK!"

"DID YOU BRING US A PRESENT? WE GOT A PUPPY! IS IT BETTER THAN A PUPPY?"

"UKKA FINN!"

"FINN!"

It sounded like there was a whole crowd of kids screaming in the hall rather than just their three and for a terrible moment Bonnie wondered if she'd accidentally picked up someone else's offspring from school. But poking her head out of the lounge door revealed that it was just the twins and Sofia after all, hanging off their uncle's arms and legs and grinning at him excitedly.

"Hey, Finn! When did you get back?" she greeted him, plucking Sofia from where she was trying to climb up his legs and letting the poor man stagger forward beneath his burden of excited twins.

"Plane landed late last night, I thought three particular someones might be waiting for their... y'know. P-R-E-S-E-N-T-S." he replied with a careful glance down at Ingrid.

"That spells PRESENTS! UNCLE FINN BROUGHT US PRESENTS!" she screamed happily.

He sighed and tried to move toward the lounge again.

"Why am I not even surprised she worked that out? She's five. Of course you taught her to spell already."

"I can spell too!" Phillip interrupted loudly.

"Guys, I can't take my backpack off and give you the stuff I brought if you don't let go of my arms." he prompted them. They let go regretfully and Ingrid lead the charge into the lounge, claiming her Mama's spot on the sofa and reaching for the abandoned coffee mug on the table before it was swept deftly out of her reach.

"Mama! I want coffee!" she squawked indignantly.

"When you're bigger. Move over please, I'm not done with my typing." Bonnie informed her distractedly. She was still looking over her shoulder, making sure Philip wasn't trying to rifle through Finn's backpack when nobody was looking. "Philip, get your hands out to there!"

"Mama!" the twins howled in unison. Sofia joined in just for fun and kicked her mother in the stomach as she slithered down to the floor.

"Rough day?" Finn ask sympathetically.

"No, just the usual. Blue Eyes, we don't kick people. Philip! What did I _just_ tell you?"

"But Uncle Finn brought presents and he missed my birthday anyway and now the presents are late." Philip sulked, pulling his hand out of the backpack again.

Bonnie would have given him a parental lecture about how presents weren't something he had a right to take from people just because they were intended for him, about manners and being polite, but a wet sounding snort announced that his mother had successfully been distracted long enough for Ina to get her hands on the coffee mug.

"Ew, that's icky." she announced, spitting the mouthful back into the mug. Bonnie could have sworn that somewhere on her head another hair turned grey right at that moment.

"Ingrid!"

"Mama?"

"GO SIT ON THE RUG."

She shrugged and slouched off to where her little sister was amusing herself drumming tiny feet against the wall and left Bonnie to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration.

"Ok. We'll try that again. Hello Finn, how was your holiday?"

"Quiet." he replied with a grin. "I drank some beers, took in the sights, visited the cultural highlights. You were right, Prague is awesome." he replied with a knowing smile. Bonnie recognised that smile. That was the smile of a man who'd spent two weeks partying and hooking up with various Czech girls and probably blowing a hole in his savings account. She gave him a _look_ and he just shrugged. He was single, it wasn't like he couldn't kick back and enjoy himself if he wanted.

"Marcy'll be mad she missed you, she's got some work thing going on so I'm home alone with these monsters. Ina, don't prod your sister's nose."

"She's gross!" Ina replied happily. Sofia kicked the wall again and blew a raspberry at her big sister which Ingrid returned with force.

"Why did you bring us cough medicine?" Philip asked with a wrinkled nose, holding out a bottle he'd apparently swiped from Finn's bag and somehow worked the lid loose on. His uncle grabbed it out of his hands nervously before Bonnie could berate either of them.

"This is for grown ups, little guy. It's for your mums, it's a traditional Czech drink. You're not old enough for it."

"It smelled like cough medicine." Philip shrugged.

"You brought us becherovka?" Bonnie asked with a weary smile. She was impressed Finn had remembered the name of the drink they'd brought him from Prague themselves ten years earlier. He grinned back, still looking every inch the mischievous young Army officer back on leave and ready to tear up the town despite the decade that had passed in the interim.

Sofia had evidently gotten bored of kicking the wall and crawled into Finn's lap. She play growled at him and he growled back; sometimes Bonnie wondered how a single guy without any kids could be such a brilliant uncle. But of course, he'd had the practice with Jake and Lady's brood. A visit from Uncle Finn was always everyone's favourite thing.

"Mamaaaaaa, tell Uncle Finn we want our presents!" Ingrid whined.

"Ina, we don't beg people for presents. It's bad manners." her mother chastised her. Finn exchanged a collusive wink with his eldest niece and reached into his bag again with his free hand, the one that wasn't stabilizing Sofia where she was trying to climb onto his shoulders. With a flourish he pulled out a picture book and handed it across to the excited twins.

"This is for you to share, guys. I, uh, I saw it and thought of you."

"M-Ma-ru… and the My-Mis… My-story… Poo." Phillip read uncertainly, stumbling over his words a little. But a moment later an enormous grin spread across his face when he realised what he'd just read. "Maru and the Mystery Poo! It's a book about a POO!"

"LEMME SEE!" Ina yelled, grabbing it out of his hands and staring at the cover.

"Mama! It's got a giant poo on it!" Philip announced.

"You got them a poop book. Thanks." Bonnie told Finn with an eye roll as the twins settled on the rug to giggle at the pictures and haltingly read the story of the mystery poo to each other.

"I mean, they're five. It's poo. Every five year old is obsessed with poo. And come on, Bon. Look how happy it makes them! I remain the undefeated World's Best Uncle for the twelfth year in a row. You can tell your brother to suck it." he replied with a breezy grin.

She shook her head but the frown that she'd intended to wear was softening into a fond smile by the second. Finn was the absolute worst, she was so glad their kids had someone like him in their lives.

...

Dinner that night found four of the five residents of the Sugar-Abadeer household sharing a mixed veggie stir fry in the dining room while one sat glumly in the kitchen listening to a constant stream of nagging and negative opinions down her phone. It didn't help that she could smell her partner's excellent cooking or hear the kids' laugher in the next room. Eventually Ingrid wandered through with her pens and colouring books, throwing herself down next to her Mama and staring at her sympathetically.

"Mama, wir werden nicht nach Deutschland ziehen. Ich muss gehen, wir reden später mehr, ok?"

"Mama's telling Oma that she doesn't want to go live in Germany." Ingrid translated quietly. Marceline nodded, she'd figured something like that was happening. Bonnie looked exhausted and Marcy didn't blame her, she'd been on the phone with her mother for well over an hour already and Frau Sugar didn't pull her conversational punches.

"Ja. Ich liebe dich auch. Tschüss, Mama." the redhead sighed before finally letting her mobile slide away from her face.

"She's still going on about us moving to Germany?" Marcy asked.

"Uh-huh. German schools are so much better and German hospitals need someone like me and the quality of life out there is so much better and I'm not even properly English anyway and- urgh, sometimes I just wish I could tell her to shut up. And she wants to come visit for Christmas."

Marceline froze in horror halfway to the fridge to fetch her partner's now very delayed dinner. A visit from her mother in law was rare and unpleasant, she'd rather have Neddy come to stay for the week because at least he mostly spoke the same language as her and didn't huff loudly on a Sunday morning when she resolutely did not get dressed up and head out to church. But she knew that however difficult the older woman always was Bonnie loved spending time with her and didn't get chance to see her parents as often as she wanted. Plus Colonel Sugar would probably be along too and he and Hunson got on like a house on fire.

"Mama, I want to move to Germany." Ingrid announced. She was sitting at the small kitchen table swinging her legs and industriously colouring in her Disney picture book.

"Why do you want to move to Germany, sweetie?" Bonnie prompted when the little girl didn't elaborate.

"Cause. They got the best cakes and candies and Oma makes nice dinner and they got a swing park right outside the door. Mama, I coloured Rapunzel's hair black so now she's like Mummy, look!"

"But you like it here too, right? And I make nice dinner too." Marcy frowned. "I made stir fry for you and we can go to the swing park here. Plus, you know I don't speak German."

"It's really easy, you could learn." Ingrid shrugged.

"We're not moving to Germany, squirt. Now go wash up for bed, it's getting late and I bet there's a certain new book about a certain mystery poo someone wants to read before they sleep." Marceline replied, dropping a hand onto her daughter's head to ruffle her hair fondly. Ingrid ducked and stuck her tongue out before running off and yelling for Philip to come wash his smelly boy face so they could read the poo book.

"She's really coming over for Christmas?" Marceline sighed once the kids were out of earshot.

"I'm sorry, love. I know how you two don't see eye to eye. But she does adore the kids and they deserve to know their grandparents. Can you be the very best person in the whole world and put up with her for just one week, for me?"

Marcy looked down into the big blue eyes staring up at her full of pleading and innocence and she kept her sigh internal. A whole week of subtle homophobia and covert racism and little jabs about her career. A week of not knowing what they were laughing about and if it was maybe a joke at her expense, a week of hearing about how terrible England was and all English people by extension. Seven days full of nothing but Frau Sugar criticizing her parenting. And she would do it all without complaint because she loved Bonnie and she just wanted the redhead to be happy.

"Of course. Anything for my baby." Marcy replied softly. She even managed to find an almost-sincere smile to drag across her face. It was worth it for the smile she got in return and the hug around her waist. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a mystery poo to solve and you have dinner to eat."

…

Marceline Abadeer was too damn stubborn for her own good and never knew when to back down from a fight. She knew it, she was perfectly aware that it was a flaw, and she didn't care. It was impossible to be perfect anyway so she should just be glad she knew where her imperfections were, she'd argue. Usually that argument happened late at night and was conducted entirely in whispers because the kids were asleep. She'd begin by casually mentioning that she was just going to go upstairs and maybe take a quick shower and, uh, just stay down here ok? And Bonnie would give her that _look_ , that condescending you're-being-vain-and-ridiculous look. It was usually closely followed by the redhead flat out telling her she was being vain and ridiculous, which Marceline hotly denied. She was a lot of things. A lot of bad things. But vain? Really? Coming from the woman who'd bought a pair of heels just because they were the exact same colour as her car?

"I like things to match, it's not a crime!" Bonnie hissed, trying to be angry and quiet at the same time.

"And I like to not look like an old age pensioner! I'm still punk rock-"

"Your bedtime is ten thirty, you take vitamin supplements and you complain that kids at rock concerts have no manners these days! You are not punk rock!"

"Why does it bother you what I do with my hair?"

"Because! All this sneaking around in the night, for what? Are you seriously worried about the judgement of two five year olds?"

"It's the principle of the thing! When I was a kid my Mum was my hero and to me she was completely invincible. Discovering that she was just a very mortal person like everyone else was horribly traumatic. I don't want our kids to find out too young that I'm getting older and I'm going to die one day, it'll upset them." Marcy replied, sulking for all she was worth.

"And this is how you choose to do it? So… I'm sorry, I don't follow your logic. Are you trying to give them the impression that you're immortal?" Bonnie replied with her arms crossed over her chest and her chin jutted out in defiance.

"No, just, until they're older. Just let me have this."

Marceline had already strode from the lounge and she either didn't hear or didn't care that her partner muttered "so vain" under her breath as she left. She was a bit of a drama queen, she didn't like visual reminders that she wasn't nineteen anymore. And she absolutely didn't want the kids to have to face their parents' mortality at such a young age. Blue Eyes was too little to know but the twins were the same age she'd been when her mother was diagnosed; suddenly she had a whole new perspective on the trauma that had shaped her childhood. They were still so small and fragile. No, she'd rather sneak around at night and pretend to be invincible for as long as they needed her to.

First she checked Ingrid's room. Their little princess was sleeping spread eagled on her back surrounded by a guard of dead-eyed stuffed animals that stared glassily back from the bed. Marceline hated those toys but Ingrid claimed she couldn't sleep without all of them tucked up next to her. Besides, she might need them in the night. Marceline had tried asking what she could possibly need a whole bed full of stuffed toys for when she was asleep but the only person more stubborn than her was her daughter so after much sulking, screaming, tantrums and one memorable incident involving a cupcake flung out of a window the stuffed animals stayed exactly where they were. Their fixed stares were too lifelike, why couldn't they have wholesome button eyes like Hambo? But Ingrid was deeply asleep and unlikely to wake for anything until morning at least. Next she tiptoed over the hall to Philip's room. His collection of plastic dinosaurs were significantly less creepy even if the night light cast their shadow on the ceiling and made it look like a crowd of full sized ancient reptiles were staring down at her son while he slept. He shifted a little and frowned in his sleep when she carefully brushed a hand against his cheek but didn't wake. Last she checked on Sofia and for a terrible moment when she looked around the bedroom door her heart seized in horror.

The cradle was empty. Sofia had yet to progress to a big girl bed because with her propensity to go wandering around at night Bonnie hadn't wanted to make it any easier for her to get out of her room. For the span of a single horrified heartbeat Marceline's vision blurred and tunnelled towards the empty cradle before her brain unfroze and asked where the snoring was coming from and why the closet door was open.

Blue Eyes was curled up on the floor of her closet in a nest made of clean laundry. She was clutching her favourite toy, a plush stuffed cupcake with a whimsical moustache and oversized muscular arms, and curled up on her side like a dragon crouched over a pile of gold. Marcy lifted her up as carefully as possible and held her close, just reassuring herself that Sofia was safe as solid and there until her heartbeat had calmed down again and she could move without the after effects of adrenaline making her limbs tremble. Once Sofia was safely tucked back into her bed and Marceline had spent several minutes longer staring at her daughter's sleep-smooth face and willing the tension to unwind from her shoulder she finally turned and crept back into the hall. The kids were all asleep and her minor heart attack notwithstanding, everything was fine. Time to get on with Project Still Punk Rock.

Step one was removing the various kids' toys from the bath. The ones with teeth marks in them were Sofia's, the collection of brightly coloured plastic ducks were Philip's and the miserable gang of tattered, half drowned Barbie dolls had the dubious honour of being Ina's water boarding victims. Before she'd had kids Marceline had naively thought that children playing was the very definition of innocent and sweet; Ingrid had corrected her the moment she was old enough to maim her toys. Barbie's head ended up on Ken's body, stuffed toys had their limbs slowly ripped off, it was like Ingrid had taken the creepy kid from Toy Story as her role model.

Toys moved and old towels located, Marceline moved onto the messy and apparently vain, unnecessary task of making herself Punk Rock. It involved two packets of Natural Black hair dye and a lot of quiet muttering and cursing and wishing the sitting around waiting for the dye to do its job didn't take so long. Ever since the twins had been about two months old she'd noticed that one or two of the very finest, most unnoticeable hairs above her ears had somehow turned perfectly silver. As much as Bonnie thought she was being ridiculous Marceline felt like those couple of silver hairs were a huge neon sign reading: YOU'RE GETTING OLDER AND ONE DAY YOU'RE GOING TO DIE. They were a constant reminder of her mortality, those and the tiny invisible lines on her forehead that got just a little bit more ingrained every day. They had to go. So as soon as the hair dye was thoroughly massaged into her scalp and she was certain every single hair was covered root to tip it was time for the horrifically expensive anti-aging face mask that left her skin glowing and refreshed and was at least twice what she'd mumblingly told Bonnie it had cost. Face mask slathered on, hair and dye secured with copious ties and nothing to do but sit and wait for the timer on her phone to tick down Marcy was soon bored.

Sitting alone in a bathroom, even a spacious and luxurious one, even one full of fancy shampoo bottled to fiddle with and rearrange, was boring. In days long since past when she'd shared their old apartment with Jake and never worried about frown lines on her forehead Marceline had been accused once or twice of being just a little OCD. Usually by Finn, usually when she insisted on sliding a plate under whatever he was eating or rearranging the sofa cushions when he stood up to use the bathroom. Maybe he'd been just a bit right, she considered idly as she rearranged the shampoo bottles by size then by colour. There were certainly advantages to no longer living with guys, or with Jake and sorta Finn by extension since he'd always been at their place anyway. It certainly made her obsessive cleaning easier. No more dubious socks all over the place, no more beard trimmings in the sink, no more Mysterious And Gross Boy Smells. Or at least, none of those things until Philip hit puberty anyway. Sometimes she thought time was moving so fast, she could blink and five years had gone by and her tiny little baby boy was in school and talking and-

The buzzer on Marceline's phone went off to indicate that her thirty minutes waiting for her hair to dye was up and she jumped in surprised, sending a bottle twirling from the shelf all the way down to the bathtub. In the otherwise silent bathroom it might as well have been a gunshot. Marceline winced and tried to hold absolutely still as thought that could somehow make up for it. When no small feet came pounding along the hall to demand what she was doing she relaxed and let out the breath she'd been holding. Once the face mask was peeled off and she was bent over the side of the tub with the shower head in her hand rinsing out the dye, it was all too easy to miss the sound of small hands pushing the bathroom door open.

"Mummy, what are you do- WHY IS YOUR HEAD MELTING?"

She did hear Philip's terrified scream though, and managed to try to simultaneously drop the shower head so water sprayed everywhere, slap herself in the eye with half-rinsed hair, overbalance and fall into the tub in a manner that was most probably not Punk Rock.

…

After Philip had been calmed down from his sobbing and Ingrid had been lead back to bed when she came to investigate the screaming and cursing, an annoyed Bonnie and sheepish Marcy sat their son down to have a conversation about why his Mum was, in Bonnie's words, "Being a bit silly about her hair."

"Because when people get older their hair starts to go a bit silver in places, and Mummy is scared it makes her look old and she has a silly fear of not being nineteen anymore-"

"I don't want to look like an old woman." Marceline interrupted sulkily. She was holding an ice pack on her wrist and her eye still stung from the dye even though she'd rinsed it out copiously. At least Sofia had slept thought the whole thing; it was embarrassing enough to have to explain it to the older kids.

"But you are old." Philip frowned from where he was snuggled up on Bonnie's lap.

"Not _old_ old, little man. Not like… Granddaddy old. You understand?" she tried hopefully. He shook his head.

"Why don't you want your hair to go silver though? Silver is pretty."

"Because I don't like how it makes me look."

Philip was quiet for a while, still sleepy and a little confused. He turned to examine Bonnie closely too, reaching out to pet it soft red waves where they fell to just above her jawline. She'd cut it shorter not long after Sofia had discovered her grab-and-pull reflex much more aggressively than either of the twins ever had.

"Do you have any silver hairs, Mama?" Philip asked curiously.

"Of course. But you can't see mine because my hair is too pale. It's a normal, natural part of being a grown up."

That last part was directed over Philip's head to where Marceline was resolutely not meeting her partner's eyes. Philip was getting heavier and heavier in Bonnie's arms and his hands in her hair were beginning to still so she slid an arm under him more securely and carefully lifted him up off the sofa and out to the stairs.

"Mama, are you old, too?" Philip asked sleepily.

"Depends what you mean by 'old'. I'm not very old compared to some other adults like your grandparents but I'm a lot older than you and your sisters." she replied as she shouldered his bedroom door open.

"Am I gonna be old too?"

"One day, sweetie. But it's a very long time in the future."

"Ok. But you and Mummy will still be there?"

She paused, unsure if another white lie would be ok because the reality of his mothers' mortality might upset him, Philip was so sensitive. Instead Bonnie took the coward's route and fudged the facts as well as she knew how.

"We'll always be with you, sweetie. Even when we're not there in person we'll be in your heart." she murmured and she tucked him into his bed.

"Mm. Like… Football. In t'mirror." Philip muttered. Bonnie paid him no mind, his eyes had slid closed again and he was obviously on the wrong side of sleep so it wasn't strange that he didn't make a lot of sense. She just brushed a kiss onto his forehead, checked that Mr Bat was within easy reach at the foot of the bed, and tiptoed out of the room, leaving him to his dreaming. Unbeknownst to her a dream Philip waved at the little boy in the mirror, the boy called Football who waved back and begged him to be allowed through to the other side and play.


	6. Chapter 6

**Did you miss me? I haven't quite been in the headspace for this story but I'm trying to get back into it. So have some real world AU sweetness, because we all need some happy-place escapism from time to time.**

 **So at this point I'm just scrabbling around for minor characters to insert as needed. Bryce was the name of the demon in Joshua's basement. He's only briefly in one scene but from what I can remember he was a bit of a dick, right? Not that it would have a lot of bearing on the story if he was read as an OC for a bit. The ending is deliberately left as a little cliffhanger but I am intending to resolve it, have faith.**

 **Content Warning: implied lady sexing, drunkenness, vampire princesses, BMO achieving his dream of working with kids, a minor homophobic slur, some implied not-completely-mundane goings on.**

* * *

Days at work always sped by in a blur and before she knew it Bonnie was home again, relaxing back into her bed, very ready for the coming weekend. The end of the day was usually her favourite part, time to just decompress and let her mind catalogue everything that had happened since the morning. It was good to talk it through with someone, she enjoyed the comfortable routine of talking about their day before bed. And usually Marceline was perfectly happy to listen, tell her about how the music department was getting along or what she'd done with the kids if she'd had the day off. Unfortunately tonight Marceline's replies were getting shorter and less relevant the longer they talked. The other woman was staring down at her phone, biting the side of her lip in concentration and looking increasingly flustered.

"So in the end I had to go all the way down to radiology, get the damn patient file myself, all the way back to the ward and when I got there guess what? Radiology called to cancel because the CT scanner was broken and they hadn't bothered to tell me when I was there in person. Sometimes I wonder how some of my colleagues got their jobs, you think it was like, collect six bottle caps and win a medical degree?"

"...Uh-huh."

"Marcy are you even listening?"

"Huh. Yeah, sounds great."

"Marceline!"

She sighed as her phone was pulled from her hands and Bonnie examined the screen with a frown.

"What are you even reading that's so damn interesting, anyway? ...What is this?" she asked.

"Um. Well. It's a... uh, completely legitimate and non-copyright-infringing work of fan-made adult literature." she admitted, cheeks heating because she really had thought she could fake an interest in a boring doctor conversation without being busted, she'd done it before plenty of times.

"This is kinky smut fiction. About Batwoman. Why are you reading superhero internet porn?"

"It's erotica!"

"You're the worst, do you know that? So what, am I just not enough for you or something?"

"No, not like that! Just, you know? Sometimes I like to fantasize about... other things."

"Like Kate Kane in bondage gear?"

"Shut up, like you don't have any weird turn-ons."

"I do not!"

"Oh really? I seem to remember a certain junior doctor waiting almost a whole year before shyly and quite drunkenly admitting they'd like to involve melted chocolate in our bedroom activities sometime. Something about licking it off particular anatomical parts of their girlfriend. You're _filthy_."

"So, I guess you were thinking about sex instead of listening to me. Did Batwoman get your motor running for me or am I gonna have to go through that whole tedious routine of sliding my hands all over you, trailing kisses down your throat, running my fingernails along your inner thighs..."

"Sure, cause you hate touching my naked body. Uhh... mm, pretty much like that..."

How long had it been since they'd indulged in each other? Too long, Bonnie was certain of that. And it wasn't like she minded her partner reading trashy smut before bed, especially not if it helped her ease some of the frustration they both felt. She was painfully aware that with three small children in the house their intimate needs often got neglected and it could sometimes stretch to weeks or months between anything more than a chaste kiss happening before they lay down to sleep. The curves of her partner's body were so wonderfully familiar, and oh how she'd missed that eager sigh behind their kiss when her fingers stroked teasingly higher and higher across the tops of soft thighs. And then the sound of small feet suddenly thudding across the hall had her whipping her hands back and Bonnie swore quietly in German. Stupid to even _think_ about the kids finally being asleep and them having the energy for sex for once, _of course_ she'd cursed it.

"Mama, Mummy! I can't sleep!" Ingrid announced from their bedroom doorway a moment later.

"You were asleep ten minutes ago when I checked." Marceline sighed, but she wriggled over and let her daughter climb into the bed next to her anyway.

"I was pretending."

"Of course you were. I was just about to put the light off though so you're gonna have to either lie here real quiet and go to sleep or go back to your own bed."

"Here."

"Yeah, of course. Goodnight Bonnie, goodnight Ingrid."

"Night night Mummy!"

The light went off and two incredibly frustrated adults stared up at the ceiling, unwilling to move around too much and give Ina any further excuse to wriggle about but also unable to close their eyes and sleep, not with how their pulses were still insistently loud in their ears. Bonnie didn't know how long it was before small snores began to fill the air but when she turned to stare through the gloom she could just make out the outline of Marcy looking back at her. She raised one finger to her lips and pointed stealthily at the door before sliding from the bed and landing on silent feet. It took Marceline a few minutes longer to extricate her arm from under Ingrid's head but she joined her partner in the hall and followed her down the stairs.

"Are we bad parents?" Marcy whispered once they were alone in the dark lounge.

"No? We're not doing anything that almost every other couple with kids hasn't done at some point, I guarantee it. Lady said she's about eighty percent certain they conceived Junior inside Kim's playhouse in the garden. We're practically saints compared to that." Bonnie replied softly.

"Can we not talk about Jake and Lady fucking? Those are not the mental images I need."

"How about we just stop talking completely?"

Kissing was a kind of magic, Bonnie thought distantly. Kissing Marceline was especially wonderful. It made her feel lightheaded and intoxicated, like she could just lose herself in the sensation of silken lips on her skin and talented hands finding the curve of her hips, the most secret sensitive places she reserved just for her lover-

Sofia suddenly crying from upstairs was the opposite of magic. They broke apart with mutual frustrated growls and before she went to see what had disturbed her offspring Bonnie took a second to breathe deeply and try to push her disappointment away.

"First thing in the morning you're calling Simon and asking, no, telling him that the kids are coming for a sleepover tomorrow night." she commanded, and Marcy just nodded.

They trooped back upstairs in silence. By the time Bonnie had cleaned up an impressive amount of baby poop, cuddled Blue Eyes until the little girl was sleepy again and then thoroughly scrubbed her hands three times because _baby poop,_ her pulse had calmed back down and she was pretty exhausted. Tomorrow night, she told herself. Tomorrow they'd drink alcohol and watch movies with swear words in and fuck like normal couples did. Tomorrow they wouldn't go to bed at ten or fall asleep on the sofa right after dinner. Gods please, she begged silently. She needed a break.

...

Saturday morning. Bonnie's favourite part of the week. The kids were getting ready to go to Simon and Betty's, they had the whole weekend stretching out in front of them full of possibilities, there were no immediate crises at work to worry about and short of nuclear war nothing and nobody was going to stop her from spending the night in bed moaning with her hot girlfriend. Although Ingrid was certainly going to try.

"I won't! I don't like oatmeal!"

"Ina, you love oatmeal. You ate it yesterday."'

"NO! I WON'T EAT IT!"

Bonnie hadn't finished her coffee yet and she wasn't in the mood to deal with her daughter's meltdown over nothing. Maybe she'd been about to lose her own temper too but with her usual amazing timing Marceline swooped in to the rescue.

"It's because you're a vampire, right? You don't eat boring human food." she grinned. Ina grinned back and Bonnie wondered what she'd missed the night before when they'd been watching cartoons and she'd been busy typing up yet more work notes.

"I'm the vampire princess and you're the queen, Mum! We gotta drink blood instead." Ingrid nodded.

"Hmm, but where are we gonna get enough blood to feed a little vampire princess? And isn't that kinda unethical?"

"What's 'unethical' mean, Mama?" Philip asked Bonnie in fascination, watching them with a spoonful of his own oatmeal halfway to his mouth.

"It means, like... it's unfair and not a nice thing to do. You can't just drink someone's blood, they need it to stay alive." she answered.

"Uh-huh. Mummy, we can't drink blood cause it's a nethical." Ina agreed.

"Unethical." Marceline corrected her. "How about we just drink red? That's like drinking blood but nobody has to get hurt. Ok, close your eyes and make a wish real hard for special vampire oatmeal, ok? I'll be right back."

She took the uneaten bowl from in front of her daughter and disappeared back into the kitchen, returning a moment later looking smug and stirring it with a spoon. Bonnie raised an eyebrow at her in question but Marcy just continued smirking like she'd done something brilliant.

"Ok, squirt. Count to ten and wish extra hard." she commanded. Ina counted out loud, squeezing her eyes tight and wiggling excitedly.

"TEN! Oh! Mama, look! Mummy made my oatmeal vampire colour!" she squealed happily, then grabbed the spoon and began shovelling the bright crimson food into her mouth without any further complaint.

"Food dye? Bonnie asked quietly as Marcy took her seat and returned to her own neglected breakfast.

"Yeah, just a couple of drops. You looked like you were about to lose it and I could do without an excess of yelling first thing. You want a refill on the coffee?"

Sometimes Bonnie could stand to be reminded just how lucky she was to have such a wonderful partner, she realised. Someone who wasn't just funny and sexy and smart but an amazing parent too. Who could diffuse a little girl's temper tantrum with a couple of drops of food dye, who kept an iron grip on her own temper even when she was tired and frustrated by the lack of sex, who raised her voice only in the very worst circumstances. Someone who was even thoughtful enough to keep her coffee mug topped up. And yes she could be a little pretentious and vain but there really was nobody else the redhead would rather be a co-parent with, nobody else she could even picture herself ever having had children with. And they were pretty good kids, all things considered. Compared to some children their three were little angels. Still, she was looking forward to their night alone and this time at least there wouldn't be any panicked calls from Hunson before they'd even gotten the wine bottle open saying Philip was feeling sick and crying for them, this time she wasn't going to drink half a glass of wine and fall asleep on the sofa while Marcy tried to pick a film. No, they were having a date night or they would die trying. As they finally herded all three kids out of the door and piled three overnight bags into the back of the car before starting the drive north to Simon and Betty's place, Bonnie felt a plan begin to form in her mind. How long had it been since the two of them had gone out anywhere alone? She'd have a look around and see what was on in town, if there wasn't anything exciting then they head out to the small cluster of gay bars near the train station and have some cocktails. At least that way nobody would fall asleep on the sofa.

...

Saturday night. Marceline's favourite part of the week. Or at least, Saturday nights in town with her gorgeous girlfriend giggling over cocktails in the fashionable lesbian bar they sometimes came to, acting like a pair of love-drunk teens again. They'd hung out with Simon and Betty and the kids for a while before heading back to town and taking a relaxing stroll around the shops. No need to rush home and rush right to the sex, they had all night and Bonnie was big on delayed gratification. And was anything more fun than making out at the bar, throwing down their last drinks and stumbling out into a taxi then making out again all the way home? Well, honestly getting home and not having to worry about how loudly she was moaning, not getting interrupted, _finally_ getting past the point of having her underwear slid down her legs without any kids yelling for something or being annoyingly awake and wanting to come crash out in their bed. Sure, the room was spinning a bit and she'd maybe had a lot more to drink than she had in a while but Marcy was definitely not drunk, she was completely and totally in control of the situa-

Someone was tapping the side of her head and they weren't being gentle. She grunted and tried to push her face against the warm pillow she was lying on, only for it to squeal and move away from her.

"Are you trying to be funny? Marcy? Fuck's sake, wake up!"

"Huh?"

"If you're too tired then just say so, but I'm not letting you nap _there. Urgh._ Just come back up and lie on the pillows."

It took her a few bleary moments to work out why Bonnie sounded mad at her, or what exact part of her partner's anatomy she was currently using as a pillow. Then she opened her eyes a little more and discovered she'd apparently fall asleep face-first on top of her girlfriend. _During_. The room was still spinning and she felt more than a little sick. Oops.

"T'morrow, babe. I'm gon rock your world." Marceline slurred, before crawling unsteadily back up the bed to her pillow and passing out next to her frustrated girlfriend.

"I'm holding you to that. Lightweight." Bonnie muttered.

The next thing Marceline was aware of was that the morning sunshine was too fucking bright and really it needed to calm the fuck down. And that the room smelled like coffee. And then that there were lips on her skin and talented fingers sliding rhythmically against her and _holy fuck_ , Bonnie had chosen one hell of a way to wake her up. Instinctively she moaned and spread her legs a little more, allowing her partner to press more eagerly against her push her over the edge and into a sweet, sudden climax.

"Mm, good morning to you too. What did I do to deserve that?" Marcy asked thickly once she'd gotten her breath back and figured out what the hell had just happened.

"You literally didn't deserve it. At all. You passed out with your face between my thighs last night and I woke up with a very insistent need for you. That was just because I enjoy making you moan. And watching you blush." Bonnie informed her.

"I fell asleep with my face...? Uh... did you get to... you know?"

"No. No, I did not. But you did. Twice. Three times, if you include just now. So I tell you what, I'm gonna just lie here patiently, naked, willing, all that. And you can decide whether you want to be mean and go back to sleep or-"

She broke off with a happy sigh because there were already warm hands tracing the curves of her chest and a moment later lips she knew almost better than her own were pressing softly against her throat.

"I'm sorry." Marcy murmured, nuzzling the side of her neck. "Guess I had more to drink than I realised. And I've missed you _so much_. Let me make it up to you."

It was a wonderful way to spend a Sunday morning, gasping her partner's name without restraint and finally getting to share the intimacy they'd been missing so badly. But it was equally wonderful to snuggle and talk together afterwards, completely at ease and thoughtlessly unashamed to just lie nude together and enjoy the sensation of being skin to skin. And for all they'd both been eager for a night apart, the most wonderful thing of all that day was a couple of hours later when they drove back to Marceline's foster parents' place and were met with a barrage of eager hugs and kisses from the kids. The house had been too quiet, the day seemed empty and lonely without the sounds of the twins playing on the rug or Blue Eyes toddling around after the puppy babbling nonsense and giggling. Even when Bonnie remembered that they had a parent-teacher conference at the twins' school the next night and there was some suggestion it might not all be good news, she couldn't find it in herself to be too worried. She was having a relaxing weekend with her family, not even the faint rumble of a hangover in the back of her brain or the knowledge that it might be weeks before she had any more intimate time with her partner could ruin it.

...

"Hey, you've got the Sugars in your class, right?"

Bethany Canyon's shoulders tensed at the question, directed to her from the assistant headteacher. Bryce Koine was unpleasant at best and everyone knew he didn't give a damn about the students any more, he was just marking down the time until he could retire. That year's parent-teacher conference was later than usual because the twins' first teacher had gone on maternity leave at Christmas and her replacement needed time to get to know the class. So of course Bryce knew Ms Canyon was their teacher and he was obviously leading into something; she had a feeling it was nothing good.

"That's right. I'm scheduled to speak with their parents at six." she replied, careful to stay neutral. It never paid to let her guard down around the senior management in Ms Canyon's experience. Besides she hadn't been at the school for very long, Bryce was still something of an unknown quantity.

"Friends with Bruno if I remember right? That idiot's more like one of the kids than a teacher. And if I have to call them about that girl of theirs one more time… Well, good luck getting any sense out of _their_ _type_ , anyway. It's no wonder the boy's such a pansy."

And with that nugget of wisdom he left the staff lounge. Just as well, really. Ms Canyon wasn't going to just stand there and let an adult brand a five year old with a damaging and derogatory label even if he was technically her boss. And so what if they knew Mr Maurizio outside of school? Bruno was a lovely guy, he was the Sugar twins' Uncle B-MO from what she'd been able to tell and he was close friends with the parents of their older cousins, the gaggle of Madigan offspring spread throughout the school. Of course Bryce disapproved of a popular young teacher being familiar with the kids of his friends, he'd probably known them since they were born. She sighed and tried to push the anger away from herself, letting it melt and flow away before picking up the twins' records and flicking through them one last time before her meeting. The space where the name of their parents had been scrawled was frustratingly vague. It just said 'Dr B Sugar, Dr M Abadeer'. No surprise that kids as bright as the Sugar twins had parents who were both doctors though.

"Well that's no help. Which one is the father?" Ms Canyon muttered to herself.

She didn't have long to ponder the mystery though. It was almost exactly six on the dot when a knock on her classroom door had her standing to greet a statuesque, willowy woman with long black hair who looked far too much like both Ingrid and Philip to be anyone but their mother. And it was only through a force of will that Ms Canyon kept her eyes from widening in surprise when she was followed into the room by a pretty red haired woman with a commanding, practical air about her that immediately gave the impression she wasn't someone who could be argued with. Ms Canyon's suspicions were confirmed when the redhead held out her hand and introduced herself.

"Dr Bonnibel Sugar, I'm Ingrid and Philip's other mother."

"Please, take a seat, doctor. And, you must be Dr Abadeer? I'm Bethany Canyon, I've been teaching your twins' class since January."

"Your letter said you had some concerns to discuss with us?" the dark haired woman prompted. She seemed nervous, Ms Canyon realised. Something about the tension in the way she held herself and the way her eyes darted around the room spoke of her deep unease. Probably just concerned for her kids but it would be prudent to tread carefully around her anyway. Philip must have inherited his high-strung temperament from somewhere, after all. They clearly weren't shy of advertising the nature of their relationship either because the redhead who'd introduced herself as Dr Sugar took the other woman's hand and shot her a supportive smile. Ms Canyon liked them both the better for it, she was a firm believer that what kids really needed more than a traditional family was to be raised in a house full of love and they were obviously the sort of couple who supported each other.

"Well, as I'm sure you're aware, Ingrid can have quite the temper."

"Yes, we're extremely aware."

"There have been a couple of incidents where her brother has been teased by his classmates and Ingrid defends him a little too aggressively. She's very protective of him but her responses have been somewhat… disproportionate."

The two doctors exchanged glances that plainly said their daughter's aggressive tendencies were no huge surprise.

"I'll speak with her, see if there someone or something in particular bothering her." Dr Abadeer said with a frown. "She came home from school upset a couple of weeks ago, said a little girl in her class had said she was a bastard and going to hell because her parents hadn't been married."

There was no doubt in her mind that that little girl was called Kennedy and she was the primary source of Ms Canyon's stress migraines. Her father was something rich and important in property and from what she could tell Kennedy was the longed for daughter in a family full of much older sons. She was five years old and already the most spoiled, conceited little princess Ms Canyon had ever met in her considerable career. Kennedy was clearly the centre of her parents' universe and they expected her to be the centre of everyone else's, too. And then she'd met Ingrid Sugar, possibly the only girl in the school with an attitude that was a match for hers. Hearing that Ingrid had been upset enough by something Kennedy had said was a surprise, normally nothing could crack her ego.

"I think I know which little girl that would have been. So it seems Ingrid already has an academic rival. No surprise, Ingrid likes to be the first with her hand in the air to answer a question and I must say her academic record is perfect. She's far ahead of her age group for reading, writing, math and science. Overall she's popular and doing well. We're just concerned that this rivalry and her over-protective tendencies might lead her to behaviour that is less about shining academically or protecting her brother and might verge into bullying."

Telling a pair of loving and obviously very shocked parents that their daughter showed all the hallmarks of developing into the kind of kid who kept therapists in business was obviously going to be a tough balancing act. Ms Canyon didn't want to sugar coat it too much and not impress upon them how serious the situation was. But she also didn't want them to think she was being overly critical of Ingrid, their daughter wasn't about to lead the other children in a bloody coup and rule the school from atop a throne made from her teachers' skulls. Or at least, she hadn't drawn a skull throne in her detailed plans for world domination.

"She's not shy of leadership roles but sometimes it can cross the line a little. Ingrid did this when we were talking about careers." Ms Canyon added, passing across a crayon drawing.

It showed a stick figure in a golden crown sitting on a throne with lots of people bowing to her and offering her money and gems. The throne appeared to be in the middle of a bright pink fantasy palace complete with fountains cascading down the outside and a tree growing out of the top. And scrawled underneath Ingrid had completed the sentence written by their teacher; ' _When I grow up I want to be a..._ dik titr.'

"Does she mean 'dictator'? Oh, this is because her cousins are going to visit family in South Korea this summer and Ingrid wanted to know if there was a North Korea too. We ended up having a discussion about dictators and how bad they are. I guess she didn't quite grasp the last part." Dr Sugar replied sheepishly.

"Compare this to the drawing Philip did. It's quite abstract but not really worrying in the same way, you see?"

Next she handed across another drawing. For a moment Dr Abadeer squinted at it, frowning. Then she burst out laughing. Underneath the quite lifelike drawing of a grey floating figure wearing a big puffy jacket and what looked like deer antlers growing from his head, Philip had completed the sentence as ' _When I grow up I want to be a..._ ghoast'.

"Look, he almost got the spelling right and everything. Our little weirdo." she said proudly.

"Your son is coping very well. Considering what the twins have been through recently it's perfectly understandable that they'd be a little unsettled. I understand that children can express loss in different ways and Philip tends to draw ghosts a lot. He told me about Clarence and how he passed away unexpectedly. It must have been a difficult thing for you to explain to them." Ms Canyon told them kindly. She hadn't been prepared for both women to frown and exchange a glance filled with confusion and sudden panic.

"I- I don't understand. Philip doesn't know anyone called Clarence."


	7. Chapter 7

**So I thought you guys might like an update. I'm signed off work with my spinal problems, I got the result of my scan back and I'm now on the waiting list for surgery. It'll be a couple of months before they get me in to fix it and a couple of months after that before I'm back to doing anything more than lying on the sofa watching box sets of Deadliest Catch all day. And writing, of course. Which is good news for all you fanchildren, right?**

 **Did you all enjoy One Step Closer? I hope so! That little piece of backstory is finished but I do have at least one more 40 Weeks Universe backstory piece I wanted to write. Since I know it's been done to death by other writers but it isn't something I've ever written, how would you guys feel about reading a oneshot with a pregnant Bonnie in it? I think it'd be potentially hilarious to write poor Marcy trying to deal with three year old twins and a pregnant, hormonal girlfriend. But I'd still appreciate some input on whether it's something you'd like to see. Let me know and we'll see if I can make it happen.**

 **Content warning: possible psychology, drama, peril, bad language.**

* * *

Philip sat at the top of the stairs and listened to his parents argue in the lounge below. He knew he wasn't supposed to be out of bed and he definitely wasn't allowed to listen in to other people's conversations. But it was ok, they were too busy being angry with each other to notice him. Besides if one of them sounded like they were going to come into the hall and see him he'd already be gone; Clarence would warn him. They'd come home from the meeting at school in a strange mood and sat with him on the sofa then asked him some very gentle questions about imaginary friends and ghosts and if anyone had been mean to him, if anyone had made him sad. Mama had asked in her most serious, careful voice if anyone had touched him under his pants or made him touch them or look at any pictures or videos with naked people in them. Mum had given her a very angry look but Philip had just shaken his head, confused about why they were even asking. They showed him the drawing he'd done and asked him about Clarence.

"He's sensitive!" Mummy was saying in a voice that sounded very upset. Philip frowned, he didn't like knowing that he'd made her upset.

"Or he might be sick and need help!" Mama replied. She sounded frustrated, more angry than Mummy.

"It's not exactly unusual for kids his age to have an imaginary friend, Bonnie! Just because he's not a junior champion _everything_ like you were-"

"I can't believe you're making this personal! Yeah, probably he just has imaginary friends! But if he does have childhood presenting schizophrenia and we don't get help for him-"

"He's my son! I'd know!"

"Oh, you'd _know_? No offence, Marcy, but he's not a cello. Please leave the medical diagnoses to the one of us who's a real doctor. I want to get him tested."

"Over my dead body, you sarcastic bitch."

Philip gasped quietly because Mummy had said a bad word! And he didn't want her to be mad with Mama because of him, he didn't understand why they were fighting but he knew he was the reason for it.

"Why are you being like this? Do you think it's somehow your fault if he's sick? Marcy, if he needs help then you're only hurting him by delaying it!" Mama said. Now she sounded tired as well as angry, but Philip was relieved to hear that she'd not said any bad words too. He'd heard them swear before, when they thought he was asleep and they watched TV and talked. This was different though, they were saying angry bad words for real and there were no kissing noises or quiet giggles to reassure him that his parents weren't fighting for real.

"What if he actually is seeing ghosts?" Mummy asked after a silence that stretched unbroken by anything but a soft sigh and the quiet creak of the sofa like she'd given up on being angry and leaned into the hug Mama offered.

"He's not seeing ghosts because ghosts aren't real." Mama said firmly.

"I don't know. I want to agree with you, babe. But then we're left with the same options again. Either it's real ghosts, he's imagining it or he's hallucinating. Bon, he's only five. He's still a baby, he's special. Maybe it's just his imagination, I really hope so. But what if it isn't? Which is worse? Is he sick or haunted?"

"Is it hurting him right now? Is he any different to who he was yesterday when we didn't know about any of this?"

"I guess not. I just really wish I could help him."

"Maybe he doesn't need any help. Maybe it's a phase that'll pass. We'll keep an eye on him for now and see if anything else happens, yeah? But if he needs it, if it gets worse, will you let me take him to see a child psychiatrist?"

"Yeah. If he needs it."

"Am I crazy?" Philip whispered to Clarence. His ghost friend turned to look at him.

"No, Philip. You're special. Sensitive. Your Mum's right, you're just a very sensitive little boy, that's why you can see me but your parents can't. Some children are born special. You haven't learned how to close yourself off from things that people tell you aren't real yet. But it's late and I don't think you're going to learn anything else from listening to them, sounds like your Mum is going to her music room. Come on, let's go to bed."

He stood up from his seat at the top of the staircase and crept back to his own room on tiptoes, yawning into his hand as he went. How did Clarence always know when he was tired? Was Mummy right, was Clarence just someone he was imagining? Or did he have a poorly head like Mama thought? Philip stared sleepily at his dinosaurs while his exhausted brain whirred down and he decided it didn't matter, Clarence was his friend and he was nice so Philip would keep talking to him. He'd just be very careful not to talk about Clarence to anyone else or do any more drawings of him in school, then Mummy and Mama wouldn't worry about him anymore and Mummy wouldn't get angry and say bad words to Mama.

"Bitch." Philip tried quietly into the darkness of his room. He frowned, the word felt dirty in his mouth. No wonder it was a bad word. His last thought before he fell asleep was that he wanted to give Mama an extra big cuddle in the morning to show he was sorry for making Mummy angry and making her say a bad word. If it felt dirty to say it must be even worse to have it said to you, he figured.

...

Philip was unusually good for his age at remembering things. He remembered not to talk about Clarence again and he remembered to give Mama an extra cuddle in the morning, he even remembered how the bad word had felt to say and how it had made him feel bad. And then something happened that made him remember that his Mama was a hero. She was a doctor and that meant she made sick kids better with her special medicine, she could make Mummy laugh even when she was really sad and she always knew when he was feeling overwhelmed by noisy places and picked him up, let him press his ear against her chest to listen to the thump of her heartbeat instead. Philip didn't know his Mama was a hero for anyone else though, not until that day.

It was an unusually warm Saturday and Jake was taking Finn to some Army fundraiser for injured ex-servicemen, he hadn't felt up to going alone. So Lady and the kids were all at their house for the day and someone suggested a drive out to the coast since the weather was so nice. It was one of the twins' favourite places to go, the closest end of the pier to the beach had a little funfair with merry-go-rounds and a carousel, and further along there were old men with long fishing rods and sometimes grumpy old dogs who growled at Schawbs. Ina and Violet had spent many happy hours staring down through the railing at the very end of the pier into the waves and telling each other about the mermaids that lived there. The whole place was packed with families eating ice cream cones and little paper bags of chips. Seagulls wheeled overhead and screamed, occasionally swooping down and trying to snatch food from an unwary human. Ina watched in fascination as a large white spatter of seagull poop fell like a bomb from the sky and landed on the very top of a fat, bald man's head. The adults chatted and laughed while the kids ran around playing tag, except for Sofia who was being carried in Marcy's arms because it was her usual nap time and no matter how loud it was she'd never had any trouble sleeping, just like her Mama.

"Mum, can I get an ice cream?" TV asked Lady as he skidded past her.

"You just had a bag of chips, you'll have to wait." she replied, breaking off from where she'd been telling Bonnie about their latest case at work.

" _Muuuum_ ," he wheedled, "everyone else is getting one!"'

"And if everyone else told you to jump off the end of the pier would you do it?"

"I bet Aunty Bonnie would let her kids have an ice cream."

"Absolutely not, don't you go giving them ideas, young man." Bonnie told him. TV sighed, momentarily thwarted, and opened his mouth to argue some more. But before he could Philip blurred past him and tapped his cousin's shoulder.

"TAG! You're it!" he yelled, before sprinting off breathlessly after Charlie and Junior. Poor pudgy little TV had absolutely no chance of catching up to his bigger siblings. He'd inherited Jake's natural predisposition to carrying a little extra weight and he was the youngest of his family, they all had much longer legs than him. Even Ina and Philip were faster than he was and they were a whole two years younger. But nevertheless TV gamely jogged off in the direction of his siblings and cousins, looking for someone who might make an easy target. His eyes landed on his own twin sister and Ingrid, staring out through the railings to look for stupid mermaids like always.

It was an unwritten rule that games of tag weren't optional, nobody got to sit them out. Except for Kim of course but he was a bigger boy and since he'd started big school he was far too cool and grown up to play with them anyway. Besides he was too fast, there was no fun in running after him. Ingrid was scary and bossy and might hit him for tagging her, she was rapidly becoming an exception to the tag rules too because of her temper, but Violet was fair game. She was his twin so he felt like it was only fair that he was allowed to tag her even if she didn't know she was playing. As he puffed up towards her though Violet leaned even further forward and pushed her head and shoulders right through the broken part of the railings to get a closer look into the waves below exactly the way their Mum had warned her not to a million times. TV tagged her as hard as he could right on her butt, not realising for a split second what he'd done until he saw her tilt forwards and then disappear over the side with a shriek.

Bonnie had been watching the kids out of the corner of her eye and before his scream of panic even hit her ears she was sprinting to the end of the pier, kicking her shoes off and shrugging out of her jacket, ignoring the shouts from behind asking what the hell she was doing. Maybe nobody else had even seen Violet fall, it was noisy and crowded with teenage skateboarders as well as their own kids, just lucky she'd been looking in that direction. Besides Lady wasn't a strong swimmer, Marcy was holding Sofia and there were no other adults immediately around except for the old men who came to fish. Way back in her days as a student doctor Bonnie had been trained to run towards screaming instead of instinctively away from it and she knew without conscious thought that even if it was a warm day for late spring the water would only be a couple of degrees above freezing, that a seven year old wouldn't survive for long in strong, icy waves.

It was almost the most perfect dive of her entire life. With a running jump she hurdled over the railings and had just enough space to launch herself with one leg from the very end of the boards before arcing down gracefully to the waves ten feet below. Muscle memory that she didn't know she still possessed took over and locked her arms straight out over her head to break the surface with the smallest of splashes and abruptly the terrified yelling from up on the pier was replaced by the rush of icy water in her ears. For a single heartbeat everything was confusion and numb shock from the dramatic change in temperature. Then her sense of direction kicked back in along with the panic and she struggled upwards toward the surface.

Bonnie's head broke the water and she pulled a strangled breath into her burning lungs before staring around wildly for Violet. There! The little girl was almost fifty feet away, struggling against the choppy waves and trying to shout for help between the breakers washing over her. With immense effort Bonnie pushed past the feeling that the icy water was shrinking her skin until it was too tight on her bones and kicked forward into a powerful freestyle stroke. Somewhere between the adrenaline and the surreal feeling that she'd fallen into a bad dream the redhead took a moment to be thankful that she was wearing a long t-shirt and figure hugging leggings instead of jeans; if she'd had to fight against the drag of wet denim they might both have drowned. Violet slipped beneath another wave just before her aunt reached her and didn't come back up. With a jolt of fresh horror Bonnie took a breath and forced herself down after her niece.

The salt water stung her eyes and when she forced herself to stare around everything was just a murky blur. Until a paler flash below her caught her attention and she kicked down towards it, catching Violet by the upper arm and dragging her back up toward the surface. They finally made it back up to the light and air and to Bonnie's huge relief Violet immediately took a deep gasp.

"Hold on around my shoulders, don't let go." she told the struggling little girl in a rush, before the next swell came and sent them bobbing and spinning helplessly in the water. Violet held tight and Bonnie kicked off toward the pier. She was almost certain there was a ladder or something up from the water and it was so much closer than the distant shore. Violet was already shivering fiercely. The icy water was like needles against their skin and the drag from the little girl's heavier clothing was putting extra strain on Bonnie's already exhausted arms. Her muscles burned and breathing was beginning to become difficult to time between waves especially with her niece's arms locked tight around her neck. Something hit the water with a splash in front of her and Bonnie looked up in shock. It took her numb brain a moment to register that she was looking at. It was a life ring, one of the ancient orange and white striped ones that were hung every hundred feet or so along the pier. And there was a rope tie to it that led back up to where a familiar and terrified looking face was staring down at her. Marcy must have seen what was happening and gotten the life ring. Bonnie grabbed onto it with both hands and let herself be dragged the rest of the way to the ladder that lead back up to the pier.

Violet went up first, stumbling coughing and terrified into her sobbing mother's arms while her siblings looked on sombre and confused. Then Marcy was reaching down to help haul her partner back up the last couple of rungs. She looked like she wanted to yell at Bonnie and kiss her and possibly slap her, she looked like she might faint or cry. Philip and Ina were staring wide eyed, standing well back from the edge with Kim who was holding a wailing Sofia in his arms and TV whose cheeks were very obviously tear stained. Marceline said something to her and Bonnie just stared blankly, confused. Was it normal for words to take so long to make sense of? She was shaking, she realised distantly. Was it shock? Adrenaline? But Violet was safe, right?

"Are you ok? Bonnie! Answer me!"

Oh, Marcy was asking if she was ok. It took a couple more seconds for the redhead to figure out how replying worked

"Huh? Uhh, m'cold." she muttered.

The old fishermen and teenage skaters were there too and soon she found herself sitting in the middle of the pier wrapped in a jumble of borrowed hoodies and old waxed jackets that smelled vaguely of fish bait. That was where the paramedics found them.

"Y'called an ambulance?" Bonnie asked through chattering teeth.

"Do you have any idea how long you were out there in almost freezing water? You could have drowned! Yes I called an ambulance!" Marceline replied angrily. "Don't even think about bullshitting me and pretending you're ok, your fingers are almost blue and you're shivering hard enough to shake the whole pier! You have hypothermia!"

Bonnie took a much deeper breath than she had up to that point, about to argue that she was a _doctor_ and she would most certainly recognise the symptoms if she had hypothermia. But the extra expansion on her lungs sent her into a coughing fit just as the paramedics were kneeling by her side and instead of angrily replying she found herself coughing up an alarming amount of sea water. Marceline didn't even look smug about being right, just terrified as the ambulance crew reassured her that her partner and niece would be ok and she'd done the right thing to call them.

...

The hospital wanted to keep Violet in overnight for observation but once they'd checked Bonnie's core body temperature had returned to normal, given her a checklist of symptoms to keep an eye out for and then given the same list to Marceline when the redhead insisted it was unnecessary and she was fine they finally let her go home. The drive was silent and awkward. Once they were back Marceline made a show of ignoring her, feeding the kids and then getting them to bed because it was later than anyone had expected to be out. The moment she came back downstairs Bonnie knew she was in trouble. Marceline's eyes narrowed dangerously when she saw that the redhead had ignored her direct order to wrap up in the blanket from the back of the sofa. She immediately grabbed it and draped it around her partner's shoulders, ignoring the Bonnie's weak protests.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Marcy finally asked. Her voice was quiet but crackled with barely controlled fury nevertheless.

"What was I thinking? Is that even a damn question? I was trying to stop our niece from drowning!"

"By bloody drowning too? Are you _stupid_?"

"I-"

"There was a life ring right there! There's a coast guard launch point right on that side of the fucking beach! _You could have drowned, Bonnie!"_

"But I didn't drown! I'm fine, Violet's fine, everyone's alive and ok because I acted quickly!"

"Because you got lucky! The paramedics said you could have both easily drowned with how strong the current was, you could have been swept right out to sea! I want you to promise me you'll never do something so thoughtless again. And I want you to go back for some more sessions with the therapist." Marceline told her. Bonnie stared, confused and increasingly angry.

"What the fuck for? Because I know I'm a strong open water swimmer and I saved a girl from drowning today? You think that means I need fucking _therapy_?" she demanded.

"Because you have a hero complex and absolutely no regard for your own safety and apparently you think that I'm somehow overreacting to watching you almost drown!"

"I knew I could help! That's not a hero complex, Marcy! It's just the truth!"

"Because you won a couple of trophies for open water swimming when you were just a kid? Seriously? How long has it been since you had any kind of swimming training? Twenty years? Thirty? You're not a teenager anymore! I'm not going to sit back and watch you get yourself killed because you don't trust anyone else to help!"

Bonnie opened her mouth to argue, sucked in a breath, then shut her jaw with a sigh. As much as she hated to admit it Marceline might have a point. Her arms were aching severely, she still felt a little cold and weak in general. It hadn't even occurred to her that she should have done something except throw herself thoughtlessly into the water after Violet. And she was horrified to realise that it was getting close to twenty five years since she'd swam any real distance in open water, since she'd won the Suffield Base under twelves triathlon. It sounded stupid when she realised that she'd based the safety of her niece and herself on that fact instead of trying to think of an alternative plan. Marcy slid down next to her on the sofa and wrapped her arms around the redhead's shoulders.

"Babe, I'm not saying it to be mean. I was genuinely terrified. One second you were standing right next to me, then I looked around and you were sprinting to the end of the pier and you _jumped-"_

"I'm sorry." Bonnie whispered. She gave in to the nagging shame and rested her head on her partner's chest, letting Marcy pull her even closer and squeezing her eyes closed against the delayed tears that wanted to come when she thought about how close she'd been to dying that afternoon.

"If something happened to you what am I supposed to tell the kids?" Marceline asked her quietly as she ran her hands through soft red hair soothingly. "You're the one who holds this family together, you know. How am I supposed to remember the big stuff without you? Sure, I can clean and cook, but how am I supposed to balance the monthly budget? Do we have life insurance? Am I supposed to know where the details are, who to contact if you go and die on me?"

"I'm not going to die." Bonnie promised softly. She should have known Marcy would react like this, despite her many years of therapy she'd never gotten over her abandonment issues.

"You promise me?"

"I promise you. I love you, Marcy. I'm sorry I scared you. I just... I didn't think, it was instinct. I'd have done the same for any of our three."

"I know, babe. I just wish you'd taken half a second to think first, it's not like you don't have the brains for it."

The kiss they shared was full of relief and soon Bonnie was feeling properly warm again, wrapped in her partner's arms and secure that everyone was ok again. Philip was ok, he just had an imaginary friend. Violet was ok, just staying overnight in hospital to be on the safe side. Lady was recovering from her shock and TV had had a very serious talking to by his parents and uncle as soon as a panicked Jake and Finn had arrived at the hospital. And Marcy was ok, they were fine again. It wasn't how she'd wanted to spend her weekend but everyone had gotten out of it alive at least.

Up at the top of the stairs Philip smiled to himself, satisfied that his parents were happy with each other again, and let Clarence lead him back to bed with a murmur of reassurance.


	8. Chapter 8

**My guys, I'm sorry I've been crappy recently. I've been a terrible slow author and super slow at replying to messages, are you all still ok out there? My pain meds are kicking my butt and making me exhausted, it took me way longer than usual to write this chapter and I really hope it makes sense and flows well because I'm worried this is affecting the quality of the work I'm producing.**

 **I feel honour bound to tell you all that The Law Of Large Numbers, while currently on hiatus due to personal issues, will be finished in due time. I don't want to turn it into something outside of its original remit but I need to refocus before I can finish it with the attention it deserves. I also have a couple of one shots that I want to write and one of the is even set in the canon universe. Exciting, right? The backstory one shot of a pregnant Bonnie for this universe will also be getting done soon but unfortunately I won't be turning it into a mini-series as requested by one of my reviewers. I just don't have the time to start another multi chapter story right now and the 40 Weeks Universe is already so big. I checked my stats, I've logged over a million individual words on this website now and I'm willing to bet at least a third of them are on this universe alone. Anyway, that's enough rambling author notes from me. On with the show.**

 **Content warning: drinking alcohol is not always the solution to your problems, hangovers are a bastard, BOOBS!, the absolute nightmare that is Peppa Pig. Anyone who's seen the cartoon beloved by toddlers and hated by literally everyone else will already be cringing.**

* * *

After the drama of rescuing Violet from the sea it took a while for Bonnie to settle back into a normal rhythm. She was shaken, still unable to understand what had been going through her head to throw herself into freezing water without a second thought. She wasn't usually someone to act recklessly but deep down Bonnie began to suspect that her old bad habits were creeping back and she'd begun to fall victim to her own hubris again. By the time November rolled around she'd be thirty six, fast approaching middle age and despite her regular gym sessions there was no chance she'd ever be in the same physical shape she had been at eighteen. It was just insanity to push herself to limits she'd never tested before, even in an emergency. Time to step back, take stock and maybe accept that she did need a couple of sessions with the same therapist she'd been seeing before the twins were born. So instead of joining Marcy and the kids for after-school shoe shopping on her early Friday finish a few weeks later she drove in the other direction to the same therapist office as before and left what should have been the relatively easy task of getting new school shoes for the twins to her partner. Once that had been successfully completed they'd head over Treehouse for dinner with Hunson and TT while Bonnie finished up with the therapist before the kids went to sleep over with their grandfather and let their parents have a rare night out with the old gang. At least, it sounded easy when she'd planned it. Bonnie hadn't counted on Philip showing an uncharacteristic burst of temper.

Her first clue was when Marcy turned up at their regular bar looking frazzled and immediately ordered a strawberry beer and tequila chaser before she'd even pressed a kiss to her partner's cheek.

"Rough day?" Bonnie asked sympathetically as they took their drinks to the back of the room and claimed a large table in anticipation of Lady, Jake, and Finn arriving.

"Did you know Philip can't pronounce the word 'boots'?" Marceline asked with a cringe at the memory.

"Oh God, what did he say?"

"Boobs. In fact he didn't say it, he yelled it. In a crowded shoe store, he had a tantrum because he wanted the 'pretty red boobs like Mummy has' and then when I tried to tell him it's pronounced 'boots' he started screaming 'boobs' at the top of his lungs. Give me a sec, babe. I need beer."

"So... I take it Philip now has pretty red boobs just like his Mummy?" Bonnie grinned. She timed it for when her girlfriend had a mouthful of beer but disappointingly Marcy only glared at her and continued to chug her drink. She finally put her half empty glass down and wiped her mouth before deigning to reply.

"Yes. He has pretty red _boots_ , from the girls' section, with butterflies on them. And if your mother has a heart attack when she comes to visit and finds him wearing girls' shoes then I claim absolutely no responsibility. At least Ina was sensible and well behaved until she had a meltdown in Treehouse and threw ice cream on the floor because Sofia _looked at her_. And then Blue Eyes somehow removed and lost both shoes and a sock between the restaurant and Daddy's car. Are we just cursed? Why are they like this?"

"They're programmed to make a scene the moment you're alone with them in public, little kids are just born kinda sociopathic before they learn to think about anyone else. The number of times Neddy screamed that I was hitting him when we were out someplace just because I walked too close to him or asked him a question, our poor mother had to walk in between us so we didn't punch each other. One time in Kenya he picked up a melon from a market stall and threw it at me. A whole melon."

"Neddy being born sociopathic makes sense. I just hope our three grow out of it before I have to take them shopping alone again. Or you can handle it, that sounds fair." Marcy replied, taking another swig of her beer. She didn't ask about how therapy had gone, she knew her partner needed time to think about everything that had been said before she could share it.

Jake and Lady arrived just then and slid down onto the bench next to them with a round of hugs and hellos.

"So what's new with our favourite modern family?" Lady asked once she'd gotten herself settled into her seat. She looked stressed and exhausted, she still wasn't recovered from what had happened that weekend at the pier and it was obviously eating her alive. Bonnie made a mental note later to ask her how she was doing when they made their trip to the bathroom together, maybe slip her the number for her therapist's office.

"Philip has new boobs, pretty red ones to match Marcy's." she replied instead, pushing the concern for her friend to one side for the time being. Jake choked on his own drink much more spectacularly than Marcy could have and splutteringly demanded details around his coughing fit.

" _Boots._ He just keeps mispronouncing it and had a tantrum in the store when I tried to correct him. It was mortifying." Marceline informed him. Her cheeks had flushed the exact same shade of murky crimson as her strawberry beer and when Finn unexpectedly dropped down onto the end of the bench his first question was to ask why she was blushing which just set off the whole boobs-boots story yet again.

Time always flew by when they were hanging with their friends and Bonnie almost missed her opportunity to talk to Lady alone because she was engrossed in a story about a repeat offender that Finn was telling them, an incredibly dumb guy who genuinely though that if he just maintained that he had no idea how five kilos of drugs had ended up in his bag he'd get away with it. But she noticed the Korean woman slide away out of the corner of her eye and excused herself, following as quickly as her slightly tipsy legs would allow and catching up with her friend just inside the bathroom.

"Lady?" the redhead asked, drawing her friend's reluctant gaze. "Are you ok? You've been kinda quiet."

"Stressed, I guess." she replied, trying to shrug it off. But Bonnie had known Lady for well over a decade and a half, back when they'd both been struggling students who'd cram for finals and let loose in parties of crazy excess together once exam stress was over. She wasn't about to let her oldest friend push her away when she obviously needed someone to talk to.

"Ok, here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna go pee. I'm gonna go tell Marcy that I need some air and leave her with the boys. I'll come back via the bar and we'll meet outside in the beer garden with a tray of shots. You and I need to get fucked up together like the old days."

Lady smiled at her and maybe it was the couple of drinks that they'd already had affecting her but Bonnie could have sworn that the sensible, respectable lawyer and mother of five had been firmly put on the shelf and her inner student had resurfaced for the night.

"One tray of shots? What's the matter, Sugar? Scared I'll drink you under the table?"

Bonnie narrowed her eyes in mock challenge.

"Two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Apparently you enjoy getting you ass handed to you in a drinking competition."

Bonnie meandered back from the bar with the bottle and shot glasses and found them a relatively clean table in the beer garden while Lady did whatever it was she'd gone to the bathroom to do. Almost certainly it was a cover to call Joshua and check on the kids for the third time that night. She needed to let it all out and if that meant the redhead would have to get messy drunk too then it was easily worth the hangover. Bonnie had just enough time to check the text message on her phone from Marcy before Lady appeared next to her.

 _I am not cleaning it up if you barf on me. Love you, look after Lady xxx_

"The wifey checking up on you?" Lady asked with a grin that was only slightly forced.

"Yup. Give me a sec to reply, I gotta remind her that I can hold my alcohol much better than her lightweight ass ever has and to politely go fuck herself because I never puke when I'm drinking a pure liquor. Ok, putting my phone away."

"You guys should get married. Seriously, that is prime wife texting right there. You know the last time Jake texted me? It was to bring him toilet paper because I was in the next room and he didn't want to shout and wake the kids while he was on the crapper. You live with someone long enough, you might as well have an official ceremony to acknowledge that you've gotten so used to each other's disgusting habits that you can never break up."

"I have actually thought about it. Old me used to think marriage was dumb and pointless. Like, it's based on religious bigotry, government control and the _literal ownership_ of women passing from her father to her husband. It's the exact opposite of my gay socialist feminism. And I guess new me thinks that too, but I also like cake and dancing and buying pretty new shoes, plus can you imagine how cute the kids would be in fancy little wedding clothes? Maybe we should get married just for the party. I dunno. Anyway! Shots!"

She poured two shots of bourbon and they downed them together, closely followed by a second, third and finally a fourth before Lady let out a long sigh and nodded.

"Ok. So. I haven't been able to sleep properly since that day, you know? I just keep thinking, what if? And when I do sleep I have nightmares. It's fucking me up at work, we lost that case and now another client is threatening to pull out because I'm not paying attention to them. All I can think all day is where are the kids, are they safe?"

Bonnie patted her arm sympathetically while she rooted around in her bag one handed for the therapists' business card. The world was beginning to get delightfully fuzzy and a little dream like, she could let down one or two of her barriers over drinks if it meant helping her friend. Wasn't that what the therapist had told her? Consciously share with people to let them know she empathised and was listening to them, let people in despite the lingering fear of losing them leftover from moving so many times through her childhood and leaving all her friends behind over and over again. Lady needed her to listen and empathise, with the help of their old friend Jack Daniels she was sure she was up to it.

"Y'know, sometimes I still dream about that night at the maternity ward when Marcy stood up and there was so much blood. I was certain she was going to die. And about King coming at me with the knife, about when I had the miscarriage and I felt like I was a failure before we tried for Blue Eyes. It's ok to not be over this. Have another shot and tell me more."

...

Sunlight hurt. Noise hurt. Even the smell of coffee hurt. What hurt most of all was that Marceline was apparently awake and energetic and not suffering anywhere near as much as her partner the next morning.

"Doctor doctor, gimme the news! I got a, bad case of lovin' you!" Marcy sang deliberately loudly and tunelessly as she put the coffee mug down on the side table by the bed unnecessarily hard and went to throw the curtains open. Bonnie groaned and shoved her pounding head under her pillow. How had she gotten home last night? Her last memory had been of stumbling to the bathroom half carrying a giggling Lady once the other woman had finished crying off her mascara.

"Wakey wakey eggs and bakey! It's a beautiful day not to have a hangover!"

Bonnie could picture the smug expression on her partner's face perfectly, it wasn't helping her mood any. She grunted and rolled away from the noise, wondering what had been spilled in her hair to make it sticky and if she might actually be dying from alcohol poisoning.

"Go'way, lemme sleep." she mumbled through dry lips. A weight next to her on the bed told her Marceline had given in to sympathy and come to sit with her. Next second warm hands were gently massaging her aching shoulders, how had Marcy known she was weirdly sore?

"I let you sleep as long as possible but you've got exactly one hour before Daddy brings the kids back and I didn't think you'd want to be stumbling around only semi-human when he got here. Come on, babe. Drink your coffee then go hit the shower, I'll make you a fried egg sandwich."

"No, no food. I can't." Bonnie rasped. Her stomach rolled dangerously just thinking about it.

"You need a nice greasy breakfast to help kickstart your metabolism. I know, look at me using biology words like a real doctor. You left me very specific instructions when we got home last night, you needed exactly one hour to wake up, shower, eat, do some yoga and put a little BB cream on. Come on, sit up. I made your gross lemon coffee."

"You made Lebanese coffee?" Bonnie asked suspiciously. She allowed the pillow to be pulled off her head and squinted through the unwelcome daylight to the messy note her partner was brandishing. "Lemme see that."

The writing sloped appallingly and some of the words were difficult to make out but it was unmistakably her handwriting, and it was scribbled on the back of the little notepad she always kept in her bag in case of being pulled into an emergency work meeting. Marceline helpfully handed the redhead her glasses and the coffee mug; Bonnie was so engrossed frowning at the note her drunk self had written that she didn't even notice she was sipping from it and downing the headache pills she was handed.

 _Marcy, I am am drunk. ok? So I need you to do stuf in the morning cause I'm gonna be sick and you need to help me because the kids are coming back and I can't be hungover so please help me? I'm sorry cause I needed to do it because lady was sad and we used to be students together and I gotta look out for my girls right and I promise to do the laundry for a week if you make me the Lebanon coffee I like. Sugar and lemon and black coffee and make sure I drink it and shower please or I won't wake up. I need an hour to shower and yoga and make my face a bit I promise I just need coffee and a shower I love you so much don't tell you enough sorry I got super drunk and please forgive me ok I gotta go now you're coming to put me in a taxi love you xxxxxxx_

"Oh my God, drunk me has no concept of punctuation." Bonnie mumbled when she finished the rambling note. "Did I write this at the pub? Is my car still there?"

"I went over and brought it home while you were asleep this morning. It's past twelve, come on and drink up. I put extra sugar in there and everything, and I grabbed a new bottle of that minty shower gel you liked while I was out. If that doesn't wake you up then nothing will." Marcy replied with a surprisingly soft smile. As soon as Bonnie had finished her coffee she took the mug out of the redhead's hands and pulled her into a gentle hug. "You're a really good friend to Lady, you know. Jake's been so worried about her but he knew she'd be alright if she was drinking with you. So I totally understand that you needed to get trashed last night. For the greater good."

"She's so scared about something happening to the kids now." Bonnie replied.

"I know. And she needed a friend, you did great. But now you only have like, fifty minutes. Come on, I'll fix your food while you wash."

The coffee was already beginning to work and she felt more awake at least, able to get up and move around especially since there was the mortifying threat of being less than perfectly presented when Hunson arrived. The room swayed gently when she stood but Marcy steadied her and lead her through to the bathroom to shower off the night's remains. At least once she was clean and tingling from the mint soap Bonnie felt wide awake and despite the pounding in her head she managed to dress, fix her hair and face and stretch out her body for a few minutes of uninterrupted peace on her yoga mat. By the time the front door opened and the house was filled with squealing excited children again Bonnie was able to meet the enthusiastic hug Ingrid threw around her neck and hoist her daughter up into the air without the world spinning or the worry that she was about to throw up the greasy sandwich Marceline had forced her to eat.

It was a Saturday filled with a lot of coffee and headache pills which were were discretely taken every four hours but through sheer willpower and an industrial strength caffeine high Bonnie managed to make it through until the kids were in bed. Then she collapsed next to Marceline on the sofa and was already asleep before her partner had even decided which movie they should watch.

...

By Wednesday the weekend's mammoth hangover was a distant memory and a change of shift rotation at work meant Bonnie could be home for the day which made a nice change. She'd had vague plans about maybe doing some gardening but it had rained through the night and the soil was still too wet. So instead Bonnie ended up on the sofa with one eye on her daughter and most of her attention on the work she was reviewing. Sofia had been happily playing with her toy ponies when Bonnie had last checked on her less than a minute before but she was being suspiciously quiet and when the redhead glanced up from her laptop the little girl was over by the window where they'd put a little doggy basket for Schwabl.

"Sofia, what is that in your mouth?"

Predictably she chewed harder, giggled and ran in the opposite direction. Bonnie sighed internally, she should have seen that coming. She followed as quickly as she could once she'd gotten her laptop closed and put down on the coffee table where curious and destructive little fingers couldn't delete her work notes again. But not before her youngest daughter had made it as far as the kitchen.

"Darling don't stand on that, Mummy just finished cleaning it. What are you eating? Blue Eyes, is that Schwabl's chew toy? Spit that out! Bon! She's eating the puppy's toy!" Marcy called though to her. They met in the hall with Sofia wriggling and sulking in her Mum's arms.

"What did we say about this, honey? It's for the dog, it's not clean." Bonnie told her in exasperation. She took the now crying little girl from her exhausted partner with a grateful smile. "I'll take her upstairs and clean her teeth. Again. How's it going in there?"

"Slow work but we'll get there so long as I don't have to keep polishing tiny hand prints off the glass of the back door."

Marceline was being her predictable self. It was a rare occasion when the two of them were home together with just their youngest so of course she'd decided it was the perfect opportunity to deep clean the kitchen. Bonnie had left her to it, Marcy was borderline OCD about cleaning. They'd both looked away for half a second that morning and Blue Eyes had instantly turned her oatmeal into an art medium, she'd already had a bath and a two changes of clothes. Now Marceline was on her hands and knees scrubbing the rug and the floor and the doors of all their counters and telling Bonnie to just go do her dumb doctor writing and stop getting in the way. The redhead tucked the howling little girl under one arm and carried her literally kicking and screaming up to the bathroom.

"Come on sweetie, open up." she tried once she'd gotten the bathroom door locked and located the tiny Peppa Pig themed toothbrush.

"NO!"

"It's the strawberry flavour baby toothpaste, it's your favourite."

"NOOOO!"

"Sofia, you had a dirty dog toy in your mouth, I need to make it all clean again. Open up."

"NO!"

"Can you say any other words today?"

"NO!"

"So you don't want ice cream?"

Sofia glared at her through puffy, swollen eyes but stayed silent. Ice cream was her greatest weakness and she knew her mother would take her at her word if she said no.

"So will you be a good girl and let me brush your teeth if you get ice cream afterwards?" Bonnie asked with a smile.

She crouched down so they were on the same level and reached out to wipe the tears off her daughter's little face. It was so damn hard not to laugh because Sofia's temper tantrums were adorable, her face went tomato red and she puffed her cheeks out cartoonishly like she was going to shoot steam out of her ears. The little girl didn't reply, just opened her mouth with another glare and sullenly allowed her mother to gently brush her teeth then lift her up to the sink to spit out the toothpaste. They made their way back downstairs together a lot calmer and managed to tiptoe around Marceline long enough to snag a mini toddler sized ice cream out of the freezer without stepping on any still-damp tiles. With Sofia safely deposited back on the rug talking nonsense to her favourite stuffed cupcake toy and the familiar noise of the radio humming away in the kitchen it was finally peaceful again and Bonnie could get back to her work notes. It wasn't strictly part of her role in the hospital but she was taking on some research reviewing with the neurosarcoma team she'd met at her latest conference. She was focused on her work and barely registered that Sofia had crawled into her lap until the little girl was reaching for the keyboard and Bonnie instinctively caught hold of her hands.

"Wossat?" Sofia asked, pointing at the screen.

"I'm reading for work, sweetie." Bonnie replied.

"Why?"

That was another one of her favourite words, Sofia loved asking why and what for about everything. So far she'd somehow had a very in-depth discussion with Hunson about the collapse of the Soviet Union, asked Lady probing questions about what the tampons in her bag were for and best of all she'd grabbed a fistful of Finn's fluffy goatee and demanded to know why he was begging her to let go with tears in his eyes. Next time he'd visited he'd been clean shaven again which was a relief to everyone. Sofia was curious about the world and listened raptly even when the adults in her life were explaining words and concepts that were completely new to her.

"I'm reading a study by a group of scientists who are testing a new medicine for the kinds of poorly children I look after at the hospital. And I'm going to write them a report about how easy or difficult it would be to use the medicine the way they think would be most effective."

"What for?"

"So that we can decide whether to recommend to the local health authority that they approve the medicine or not. They decide if we can use it based on how much it would cost, how much we'd need and what the chances are that it would cure or at least improve the poorly children."

"Why?"

"It's called a budget, sweetie. We can only afford so much of each type of medicine and we have to be careful not to buy too much or waste any so the hospital can afford to help everyone and not have to charge people for their treatment."

"But why?"

"Because healthcare is a human right and it's not fair to make people pay to see a doctor, that's why grown ups have taxes. Do you want to watch TV now?"

"Peppa!"

Of course there came a point in every conversation with Sofia where her parents gave up on patiently explaining concepts that should have been far over her head. Because the next question was always going to be 'why?' or 'what for?' and even for a very intelligent little girl the intricacies of universal healthcare vs individual payment healthcare were probably best left at least until sometime after her second birthday. Sofia toddled over to the TV and Bonnie was left with no choice but to put on the hated cartoon and suffer through a background of oinks and manically happy animals having unlikely adventures while she finished reading. At one point Marcy stuck her head around the lounge door but she caught sight of the TV and backed away muttering something about maybe going to clean the bathroom. They both hated Peppa Pig with a seething passion, every parent they knew did.

It had been Finn who'd introduced Sofia to it, he'd thought it was a harmless fun cartoon for her when he'd been babysitting. The first time his littlest niece had punched him in the kneecap and insist he dance to the opening theme had made him laugh and jiggle in time to the music for her entertainment but he'd found by the eighteenth repetition his leg was bruised and it wasn't really funny anymore. Bonnie pushed all thoughts of dumb cartoons out of her head with a frown, she had to concentrate. Something didn't quite look right with the dosage curve the research team had drawn, it might just be human error or the data could be flawed, she'd need to replot the graph herself to figure out which and _goddammit why was Daddy Pig so stupid?_

No, she was working, she wasn't watching the cartoon even though it was clearly a ridiculous idea to keep driving to a picnic if his car was making a weird noise. Oh and of course it had broken down! Who could have seen that coming? By the time Granddad Dog and his grandson Danny Dog arrived to fix the car and save the Pigs' picnic Bonnie had forgotten about the dosage curve and her hands had stilled from their typing. The next episode had her gritting her teeth in annoyance, why would Dr Brown Bear agree to an emergency home visit for a boy who'd coughed three times and whose parents were perfectly able to bring him into the clinic anyway?

"Are you actually watching this?"

Marceline's voice from the doorway to the hall made her jump and Bonnie tried to fight the telltale blush she could feel heating her cheeks. Damn her fair complexion, she could never hide when she was embarrassed. Marcy was grinning at her in that annoying way she had and Bonnie knew she wasn't going to live this down for weeks.

"I was just watching how they portray the doctor! It's unrealistic and irresponsible, kids are going to think they should be getting a home visit for the tiniest problems! And I was just glancing up to check on Sofia, I'm working." she replied anyway, making a brave stab at defending herself. Marcy lifted one eyebrow teasingly.

"Bon, you're not even touching your laptop and I can see from here the screen's gone into sleep mode. And so has Blue Eyes."

How long had Sofia been curled up on the rug using Mr Cupcake as a pillow? How many episodes of the worst cartoon ever made had Bonnie sat and watched on her own? They all blurred together after a while, there'd been one about a giraffe kid starting school and one where the gazelle who taught their class revealed she'd once been in a rock band, there was no way she'd sat through at least three episodes without noticing though. Right? Marceline switched the TV off and gathered her sleeping daughter up into her arms before sliding down onto the sofa next to Bonnie and pressing a kiss to her still glowing cheek.

"I was working." the redhead muttered.

"I believe you. Totally. Peppa fangirl."

"Shut up."

Even though Marcy was the most annoying person ever to exist and the neurosarcoma research really did need some extra work, it was impossible to ignore the temptation to snuggle up with her partner and daughter and just enjoy the closeness of being home through the day together.


	9. Chapter 9

**Cancel the black balloons guys, I'm still alive. Surgery went about as well as could be expected and I'm slowly learning to walk again which sucks but beats the alternative. I know I promised you a one shot with a pregnant Bonnie and I am working on it! I'm just slow and dozy because of my medication. We'll get there, be patient with me because I'm still half disabled and knackered so much of the time. More writing will follow, I promise.**

 **Is anyone else playing Elder Scrolls Online? Does anyone want to get together and do a group delve? I'm so down for that, just hit me with a message and we'll get something worked out.**

 **Ok so where were we in the story? Right. Summer is just around the corner and so is the end of the school year. I don't know if people in other countries have something like sports day but the Olympics for tiny kids is basically the best description I could come up with. Ask any Brit, sports day is universally hated here. This is a pretty Bonnie-heavy chapter, I'm going somewhere with this. And yes Gareth is an Adventure Time character not an OC, he's in Jake's old gang and he's the Ladies Master in the episode One Last Job. In this he's also Kennedy's father, it's not really completely canon compliant but heyho this is an AU and I'm improvising.**

 **Content warning: sports, traumatic backstory times, maybe Neddy's not the only dragon/hoarder in the family?**

* * *

Marceline had never been especially sporty as a kid, she'd stayed in shape mostly by having lucky genetics and lugging various heavy instruments around with her wherever she went. Bonnie had been kickboxing and running and who knew what else since she was young, she got restless and irritable if she didn't work out at least a couple of times a week; Marcy well remembered how she'd been towards the end of her pregnancy with Sofia when walking was getting difficult and jogging was completely out of the question. That hadn't been fun for anyone. It was surprising to them both when Ingrid showed early signs of excelling at sports, although with hindsight Bonnie felt like she should have seen it coming. Their eldest daughter had so much energy that it was a struggle to burn it off most days. And the fast approaching end of the school year brought with it another strange English tradition; sports day.

"So it's sort of... the Olympics for tiny kids?" Bonnie asked, confused.

"No, yeah, a bit. Kinda like... not really, but sorta? All the kids compete in at least one event and everyone gets a trophy. The parents watch and cheer and try to pretend they're not taking it more seriously than the children. Usually it rains at least once and the teachers bully you into buying raffle tickets and horribly watered down orange squash so they can afford new gym equipment. It's hard to explain, you never had anything like a sports day when you were at military brat school?" Marcy replied.

"Nope. I had after school classes when Mama was at work or doing something for the church and Dad was away or out on rotation or something. There wasn't anyone home to watch us so we went to whatever activities were available. But we never had a whole day just for weird sport competitions and raffles."

"Sports day is the worst. It's always just before the summer holidays, I always got picked last and the races are stupid. Now we have to sit and applaud like it's not a huge waste of an afternoon. I get the idea that they're trying to encourage kids into sports but this feels like a really dumb way to do it."

"I think it'll be fun. Ina's excited."

"Ina's excited because she's looking forward to a chance to show off." Marcy sighed. "Philip's terrified."

"He has to carry an egg on a spoon for twenty metres, doesn't he? It's not exactly difficult." Bonnie pointed out.

"He's only five and he inherited my coordination skills. And it's a big deal for him." Marcy replied with a frown. "Not everyone is freakishly amazing at every single thing like you, Bon. Just... please try to be supportive, for his sake."

"I am being supportive, I just think your weird English traditions are hard to understand. When I was in Canada we had winter survival skills lessons after school, not egg and spoon races. It's hard to take it seriously compared to learning how to walk on lake ice, is all."

"Well Philip takes it very seriously and he's scared about coming last. So how about you keep your dumb stories to yourself and just cheer for him?"

Bonnie sighed and tried to pull her partner closer in their bed but Marcy shrugged her off huffily and rolled away onto her side.

"I thought you just said it was dumb?" she inquired gently. Marceline huffed again and shrugged, uncomfortable at being put on the spot.

"It is dumb but I don't want Philip to know that. He's been practising with one of Daddy's old golf balls, he's really worried about not doing well. The egg and spoon race is the one they dump kids into when they're too crappy at sports for anything else. I know how it feels to come last at the loser race and still have everyone laughing about it six weeks later when the new school year starts. He's sensitive, he'll take it badly if he loses."

"He'll forget about it after a few days if he loses, love. He's only five, he's not going to be that deeply scarred by losing a silly race." Bonnie soothed.

"I was."

"And who do you think he gets his sensitivity from?"

Marceline didn't bother to answer, she was in too much of a mood to put up with teasing. Instead she reached out and flicked her bedside lamp off with her back still resolutely turned on the redhead. If Bonnie wanted to be a dick about her lack of sporting aptitude then fine, well not really fine but she'd deal with it. But nobody was allowed to make Philip feel like he wasn't doing well, especially not one of his own parents. The voice of reason in her head whispered that she was probably overreacting a little but Marceline turned her back on that too and ignored the telltale sounds of Bonnie putting her book away, turning her own lamp off and snuggling down beside her.

"Goodnight then, love. Sleep well."

No reply. She risked settling a hand gently against Marcy's hip and when it wasn't pushed away Bonnie slid closer and let her arm drift around further to circle her partner.

"Why do you have to be so good at literally everything? It makes me feel very inferior." Marceline muttered into the darkness.

"Why are you taking it so personally that I think Philip will recover from not being good at sports?"

"Because. Reasons. Very logical and healthy reasons that have nothing to do with my own childhood traumas."

"Uh-huh."

Marceline was quiet for a long pause and Bonnie wondered if maybe her partner was just going to go to sleep but eventually she sighed and rolled back toward the redhead, relaxing into the comfortable embrace.

"It was my first year in the little village school after I spent a year being home schooled by Simon. I was already really scared about just being at school again, it took forever for me to get the courage to stand up there with the other kids in front of all those parents. Simon said Daddy was going to come watch me race."

"He didn't show up?"

"Of course he didn't. Some work thing, I dunno. I was just standing there holding this stupid spoon and staring at the crowd while everyone yelled at me to run. I panicked, I couldn't move." Marcy admitted quietly. The protective circle of arms around her tightened a little and drew her closer until her face was resting against the redhead's chest.

"It must have been awful for you." Bonnie whispered.

"Yeah. I don't want Philip to ever have to feel that way. Or Ina or Sofia, either. Any of our babies. Because when you lose that sense of security especially that young, it never really comes back."

"But they're not going to lose their sense of security just from one race, love. You had loads of other stuff going on." Bonnie pointed out as gently as she could.

"Yeah but one day they're gonna find out that failure hurts and people can be awful for no real reason. I just don't want it to be now."

"When's the race again?"

"Next Friday. I already put it into your diary."

"Thanks, love. Ok, that gives us the whole week to practice after school. If the weather holds I'll take Philip out into the garden and coach him myself."

"You're the best, Bon."

"Nah. Just trying to be as good as you. Now go to sleep, sweetie. You have work tomorrow."

...

The next Friday was disappointingly sunny and warm; Marceline had been secretly hoping it would rain and the whole stupid sports day would get cancelled. But of course she had shitty luck and the weather was uncharacteristically stable. It was with an irrational sense of dread that she sank down into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs on the twins' school field with Sofia on her lap to watch a bunch of screaming kids run around and do dumb races. After a brief introduction by the headmaster and a disposable cup of predictably watery and warm orange squash the kids were marched out class by class to polite applause. When the youngest class came onto the field Marcy found her halfhearted clapping was suddenly enthusiastic.

"Look," she whispered to Sofia,"there's your big brother and sister. Don't they look so grown up in their sports uniforms? A couple more years and you'll be at school, too."

The baby giggled and bounced at her mother's voice but she was sleepy and content to just sit in the shade of her wide brimmed sunhat with her eyes half closed. A few older kids were just lining up for the first race and waving shyly at various parents when the seat next to her was abruptly filled. Marceline looked around, expecting it to be Bonnie, but scowled when she discovered that a tall, chisel-featured man she didn't recognise was sitting there instead. He immediately busied himself in giving a younger blonde woman a few rows ahead some flirtatious side eye and Marcy felt like she'd already met him one too many times. The man was passably handsome with a suspiciously perfect golden tan and windblown dark brown hair that looked like he'd taken the time to style it that way; Marceline immediately disliked him.

"Excuse me, that seat's for my partner." she told him coldly.

"He should have showed up on time then." the man replied, not even bothering to look around at her. Marceline glowered and opened her mouth to reply but before she could a shadow fell across them both.

"That's my seat."

It wasn't often that Marcy got to see the full professional force of Dr Bonnibel Sugar instead of her own sweet girlfriend. When Bonnie was in in all-out doctor mode she wasn't the same person who left bright pink sneakers everywhere and sometimes talked adorable nonsense in her sleep. This was the accomplished doctor who'd stood up to countless board meetings of elderly misogynistic men and refused to be talked down to, who was invited to speak at conferences all over the country because even the most pompous boys' club types had to admit her pure brilliance. And she was currently scowling down at the man in her seat with an expression like he was a particularly aggressive tumour she was about to dissect. It was one of life's small pleasures to watch Bonnie intimidate men, Marcy thought smugly. For a moment they locked eyes and it looked like he was trying to out-stare her. He lasted longer than most people, looking away after a solid four seconds. Marceline was grudgingly impressed.

"Uhh. I'm sorry, this lady is apparently keeping it for her partner?" he stammered.

"Yes, that would be me. I'm her partner." Bonnie replied, still unsmiling. She held out a slip of folded paper that said 'Reserved For Dr B Sugar' in her own handwriting. "This must have fallen off, it was on the ground behind you. I'd like to sit down now."

The chiselled man paled and shot up out of the seat like he was on fire. With a grimace and a small bow he ushered Bonnie forward into her place and then beat a hasty retreat. Marceline had to bite her tongue to hold her laughter in until he was out of earshot.

"Why do you carry around a reserved sign with you?" she asked Bonnie around her grin as the redhead leaned in to kiss her on the cheek and her terrifying professional persona fell away again.

"I don't, I carry a pen and a notebook just in case. I figured he'd stolen my seat, I recognise your 'I hate obnoxious dudebros' frown from half a mile away. So I scribbled it down before I came over. Sorry I'm late, a consultation overran."

"It's fine, babe. Neither of ours have raced yet anyway, it's the oldest ones first. Jake should be around someplace, this is Charlie's year group." Marcy replied. She scanned the crowd for their friend and spotted him at the other side of the parents' area, watching his daughter dotingly. Charlie was jogging up and down to warm up for her race and when she caught her aunt's eye she waved and grinned.

"She's running?" Bonnie asked in mild surprise

"Jake said she wants to join the junior athletics club this summer. I guess she somehow ended up with some rogue Finn DNA or something because no way does that come from her father."

"Maybe she gets it from Lady, we used to go jogging together as students."

"Name one thing you and Lady didn't do together as students." Marcy murmured with an eye roll.

Bonnie didn't reply, just smiled a little distractedly and turned her attention back to the race. Marcy had a crazy theory that Lady and Bonnie had been more than just hard drinking besties at some point and the redhead still found it funny to keep her in the dark about whether anything had every happened between them. In truth the only time Bonnie actually remembered seeing Lady in an intimate context was when she went into labour with Kim and panicked that she was about to give birth on her lounge rug, but that didn't mean it hadn't happened. There were a lot of nights back in their wild student days that were a blur or just missing completely, plenty of times she'd woken up hungover and severely dehydrated with no firm memories of what she'd done the night before. Those early student days had seemed fun at the time but looking back they'd been dark and chaotic, a symptom of how she'd struggled to cope set loose into the adult world without any real guidance after a childhood being raised under strict military precision. It was good that she'd learned more self discipline before meeting Marceline, Bonnie reflected. She barely recognised herself compared to the mess she'd been for the first couple of years in university, she was glad she'd managed to put herself back together by the time her graduation ball rolled around and she met the love of her life. Otherwise she might not find herself thirteen years later sitting on a plastic chair on a school field with her wonderful partner and their baby daughter watching their twins compete in cute little races. It would have horrified her at eighteen but Bonnie liked her life now, she liked that it was wholesome and healthy and never involved waking up in a stranger's apartment covered in glitter with no idea where her shoes had ended up.

"Babe?" Marcy prompted, pulling her back from the past.

"Sorry, I zoned out. Thinking about when I used to party with Lady, I can't tell you how glad I am that I grew up before we met." Bonnie replied quietly.

Ingrid caught her eye from where she was sitting with the other smaller kids across the field, nudged Philip next to her and they both waved excitedly making Bonnie grin widely and wave back. Yeah, she decided, partying was fun and all but this was immeasurably better. Marcy said something in reply but Bonnie didn't hear her. She was still half lost in memories and introspection but she gripped back when Marcy laced their fingers together and rested her head on her partner's shoulder.

The kids raced, the sun beat down and Sofia was beginning to fuss long before either twin stepped up to the start line for their moment of glory. Even at distance it was easy to see the look of intense concentration on Ingrid's little face as she lined up with a group of other girls in front of the small obstacle course made from gym equipment and bean bags. It was really just a low bench to jump over, a balance bar only two inches off the ground to walk along and a net to crawl under; once through the obstacles the girls had to retrieve a small bean bag and race back to the start with it. The expression of grim determination Ina wore made her look more like she was preparing herself to climb out of her trench and sprint across no-man's-land into enemy machine-gun fire. Then the starting whistle was blown and they were off.

"Look at her go!" Marcy enthused as they watched Ingrid tear through the obstacle course like it barely existed. She was over the bench in one leap, across the balance bar without a second's thought and flung herself under the net while the other competitors were still negotiating their wobbly way over the first obstacle. Once she'd grabbed her bean bag and turned back to wriggle under the net again one of the other little girls gave up and began to cry. Ingrid took a moment to grin viciously at her fallen opponent's despair before she was off again, crossing the finish line in first place before any of the other competitors had even gotten back under the net. She was awarded the winner's medal with a smug grin so wide it could probably be seen from space.

Next was Philip's turn and Bonnie was secretly pleased to see he'd remembered her advice and was staring fixedly at the finish line instead the spoon wobbling out in front of him. He dropped his egg halfway through and had to stop to pick it up but if it hadn't been for that minor upset she felt certain he'd have come first, too. In the end Philip was the third across the finish line and beamed with shy pride at the bronze medal Ms Canyon awarded to him.

"If any of the dads in the crowd would like to sign up for the charity Fathers' Race we'll be starting in fifteen minutes." she announced to the small crowd of parents once their excited and heavily awarded offspring had all been herded to one side of the field for a final address by the headmaster. A moment later the youngest class were dismissed and both twins raced to their parents' side babbling excitedly.

"Mummy, I was third! Did you see? I was third!"

"I won, Mama! Look! I gotta medal! I won!"'

"My egg dropped but I got it again an I kept going an I got the third medal!"

"Kennedy cried and I WON! Mama, are you gonna do the race?"

"I saw, baby! You were both amazing! We're so proud of you both." Bonnie told them as Ingrid flung herself onto her Mama's neck.

"Mama, you gotta run now too! They're doing a Dad race!" Ingrid told her seriously. Bonnie opened her mouth to gently explain why she couldn't do that when the same handsome, obnoxious man that she'd evicted from her chair earlier interrupted from behind.

"So now they're just going to let any old dyke pretend that she's the same thing as a real father?" he spat angrily.

Perhaps Marceline recognised that sudden flare of righteous fire in her partner's eyes just like she had on the very first night they met. If it wasn't for the steadying hand that found her own and the instinctive way Ingrid pulled in closer to her despite not understanding the slur Bonnie might well have had to be held back from breaking his wrist, too.

"Excuse me, what did you just call me? I'll thank you to keep your language civil in front of the children, sir." she informed him with glacial politeness. This time he was too angry to be intimidated by her, his face had turned blotchy and his dimpled chin jutted out indignantly as he spoke.

"You lot and your bloody pride parades and attitude, wanting everything for nothing and expecting taxpayers to foot the bill! Always pushing your agenda onto the rest of us, soon it'll be illegal to be a straight white man!"

"Actually I-" Bonnie tried, but he was on a roll and obviously too fond of his own voice to hear her.

"-thinking the world owes you respect, want to have your cake and eat it and pretend it's _normal_ -"

She gave up, turned her back on his butthurt ramblings and caught Ms Canyon's eye as the other woman looked their way.

"Going to race, Dr Sugar?" she prompted with a knowing smile.

"Is that ok? For the twins, you know." she replied.

"Of course. We'll just add you to the _Parent's Race_ list." Ms Canyon said with a significant glance over her shoulder to where the big man was now almost incoherent with rage. "Kennedy, I'm sorry you didn't like the obstacle race but you did really well anyway. Is your Daddy going to run?"

Bonnie left her to it as she moved off to the next family, turning to meet Marceline's raised eyebrow with a sigh.

"Don't say it." she warned.

"Just going to ask you one favour. Kick his butt, yeah?"

"Of course. Ina, you sit here with Mummy, I'm gonna go warm up for my race. Good thing I'm wearing sensible shoes."

There were about twenty or so assorted fathers stretching and laughing together by the area of grass that had been marked up as a race track. They eyed Bonnie uncertainly as she approached them, shuffling a little closer together into a nervous, middle aged herd. One man caught her gaze; he didn't smile but he did nod to her. They'd met before, she realised, and she didn't exactly like him but the disgusted look he was shooting the man who'd objected told her everything she needed to know about their relationship.

"Mr Earl." Bonnie greeted him when she recognised Elon's father.

"Dr Sugar. Running with us today?" he replied carefully.

"The twins wanted me to compete, the school are fine with it." she shrugged. It didn't escape her notice that his eyes slid past her again to where the man who'd had a problem with her was now arguing with the bored looking headmaster.

"Looks like you pissed off Gareth." he observed after a moment.

"Is he a friend of yours? He objects to me running because I'm female and also some unclear reasons around tax and pride parades."

Mr Earl snorted, the closest thing to a laugh she'd ever heard from him.

"Yeah, we've met." Earl confirmed. "Scared, more like. Doesn't want to run if he can't win, he can't risk being beaten by a woman. Fancies himself as a bit of a Ladies' Master and he's worried you'll make him look bad. Prick. Behaving like that in front of the kids though, that's just unacceptable."

"I guess he's too vain and insecure to race a woman then." Bonnie replied, careful to project her voice enough that the other fathers trying to look like they weren't listening in to their conversation could hear. There was a general murmur of consensus but no more time for discussion because a moment later Ms Canyon was approaching them and they were ushered to the start line.

"Well gents, and um, doctor, it's a hundred metre sprint to the finish line. The winner takes home a medal like the kids all got and we're hoping for a donation to our charity garden project if you're feeling generous. Everyone ready?"

They nodded and muttered various noises of preparedness. Ms Canyon took herself off to the side and raised her whistle. There were no starting blocks, that was a shame, Bonnie thought fleetingly. For a split second she had a vivid flashback to her teenage athletics club in Munich, the clean smell of the freshly trimmed grass mixing with the sharp scent of new chalk lines demarcating the lanes, the impossibly long shadows stretching ahead while the glow of sunset warmed her back. She was fifteen again, desperate to be the best at everything it was possible to compete in. Then Ms Canyon blew the whistle and Bonnie hurtled forward out of her distant memories with a burst of speed that left her competition gaping in her wake.

That night once the kids were in bed and Marcy was buried under a pile of sheet music Bonnie took a couple of minutes to pull an elderly and very battered shoe box out from under her bed. She opened it and smiled nostalgically down at the pile of gleaming medals and awards. There were her two Suffield Base Triathlon junior championship medals, at least a dozen kickboxing and figure skating awards, a tangle of ribbons and rosettes from when they'd been assigned to bases that had horse riding competitions and some long distance shooting certificates she'd only taken because her brother had begged her not to. There were a lot of reasons that the gleaming gold medal she added to her hoard was her favourite. Because of the way the twins had looked at her like she was a superhero when they'd watched her cross the finish line first, because of the respectful handshake Mr Earl had bestowed upon her when he'd accepted his silver medal. But most of all for the look of pure humiliation in that Gareth man's black eyes when she caught his gaze on her face. Winning had always been one of her biggest motivations because winning meant being the best and why would she bother trying if she wasn't going to be the best? It wasn't taking part that was important, it was proving to herself and everyone else that she was still best, she still had it. The small business card on her nightstand with her therapist's contact number on the back lay just as ignored as it had for weeks while Bonnie fondly looked over the accumulated ephemera of her definitely totally healthy obsession with being the very best at everything.


	10. Chapter 10

**YOU GUYS I WANT TO YELL AND SCREAM ABOUT THE FINALE BUT APPARENTLY THAT'S SPOILERS SO I'M JUST GONNA VAGUELY CAPS AT YOU UUUAAAAAAAA!**

 **I woke up a few days ago to my awesome bud abelmayfair sending me THAT VIDEO and honestly I don't think either of us have properly calmed down since. Go. Watch. Then come back and we'll scream together, ok?**

 **Anyway, about this story, the whole reason you're reading this. Focus, Plesi. I promise that after this I won't use this trope again, not here. I've got a reason for it though and I will tie everything in by the end of the story. Remember back at the start when I naively thought this might only be about 10 chapters long? Ah, here we are at chapter 10 and nowhere near done. Looks more and more like this is going to be another behemoth and current projections are that it's gonna cover the whole year until the twins' sixth birthday. And that one shot is on it's way I promise! I hope you enjoy it.**

 ***EDIT* also in case it wasn't clear, Dr Armstrong is Muscle Princess.**

 **Content Warning: wild kids, foreign languages (Gujarati, German), remembered trauma, implied peril, personal closure rituals. That's as much as I can say without giving away a ton of spoilers.**

* * *

Summer break meant long days and time to focus on new projects, for Marcy at least it meant not having to get up early for work since there were no more lectures to deliver until the middle of September when her new herd of idiot first years arrived and had to be taught which way up to hold their cellos. It was long, drowsy mornings in bed letting her brain wake up gently because Bonnie was already up and dealing with the kids-

"I'm going to work, see you tonight!"

Shit. It meant getting up as soon as the front door closed because she'd forgotten that her girlfriend had an early start and the kids absolutely couldn't be unsupervised downstairs even for half a minute. But they were getting older, perhaps they'd learned to be a little bit less wild as they grew? Marcy allowed herself a single moment of naive hope as she stumbled to the stairs and hurried down to an already half-destroyed kitchen. She barely heard the sound of something falling and spilling across the floor around her huge yawn.

"Ina, oh my God, get off the counter! Where's your sister? Sofia! Come here, Blue Eyes! Did you open the back door? Is Philip outside with the puppy?"

Once an entire box of breakfast cereal had been swept off the floor, Sofia had been located trying to climb over the fence into next door's garden and Philip had washed the damp soil he and Schwabl had been digging in off his arms Marcy finally let out a breath of relief. All three kids were still within the limits of the house, all limbs were attached to their owners and it had only cost a box of cornflakes, a few damaged flowers and a sizeable chunk of parental sanity. That was actually pretty decent since Marcy definitely wasn't confident in her solo parenting abilities. Not a terrible start to the day, all things considered.

"Mum, I'm bored. Can we do something fun?"

And that was before she'd even gotten out of her pyjamas and drank a mug of patience-granting coffee. But Ingrid was using her most adorable puppydog eyes and her mother didn't have a heart of stone, she couldn't help but smile and crouch down for a hug. Where had the time gone? Ina was such a big girl now.

"Can you and your brother watch Sofia while I get a quick shower and get dressed? Then we'll see about doing something fun, ok?" she asked gently.

"Kay. Can I watch cartoons?"

Ok, the kids had their cartoons and Ina was bossing Sofia who was ignoring her and trying to make Philip dance instead, they could be left alone for the five minutes it took to get a very quick wash, right? Probably not, Marcy knew, realistically they'd almost certainly have destroyed something or started a fight when she was done but that was just a risk she'd have to take. So she was immediately suspicious when the first sounds she heard on exiting the bathroom a short while later was controlled giggling from downstairs and not shrieking or crying. At least that meant she might even be able to blow dry her hair instead of just tying it back and hoping for the best.

Except that when she walked into her bedroom the first thing she saw was Philip sitting at Bonnie's vanity table and humming to himself while he painted a big smiley face on the mirror in lipstick. He caught her reflection and grinned proudly.

"Mummy, look! I put pretty on the mirror lady!"

So that was Marcy's morning, cleaning the antique mirror on the vanity and trying to stop the kids destroying stuff. She'd almost forgotten what Philip had said about the 'mirror lady', it took a while for her to remember because after lunch she made what seemed like a mundane decision to take the kids with her to the grocery store and after that she had plenty of other things on her mind.

It was as they were paying for groceries and Marcy was trying to negotiate a cart of food, Sofia wriggling around in her baby sling and the twins loudly petitioning to go to the park next. An elderly Indian woman tapped her shoulder and handed Marcy her purse with a smile.

"Excuse me? You dropped this." she said with a heavy accent. And without a thought, without even realising beforehand that the old woman sounded just like her grandmother had or that she wore the same kind of jewellery and sari, Marcy opened her mouth to say thank you.

"Ah, abhara! Mem tene chodi didhum?"

The old woman laughed at the expression on both twins' faces.

"Your mother does not speak Gujarati in your home?" she asked them with a smile. Philip shook his head and slid a little further back behind Ingrid, he was shy around new people.

"I can barely remember any of it, I haven't spoken Gujarati since my grandmother passed." Marcy confessed. "Thanks for returning my purse. Say goodbye, kids. Aawjo."

"Aawjo." Ina repeated, waving hard enough for both herself and her brother as they make their way back out to the car.

"Mummy, why did you talk funny to the lady?" Philip asked curiously once he was buckled into his car seat.

"Because she reminded me of my grandmother and I did it without thinking. That lady must have been form Gujarat too. That's a place in India, it's where my mother's mother was from. I didn't even realise I remembered any of the language."

"But why do they got different words for stuff?"

"Because people speak different languages in different countries."

"Do you know any other words, Mummy?" Ina asked with her eyes sparkling as they pulled out onto the main road.

"Lemme see... uh... Kutaro. That means dog. And biladi is cat, I think. It's been a very long time, sorry guys."

It was one of those perfect moments that would stay in her memory forever. Sofia was asleep in her car seat, Ina was gazing at the back of her head in wonder and Philip was looking out of his window and humming to the traffic. It was just unfortunate that the reason it was forever branded into her memory was because in the next instant the peace was shattered by Philip screaming a single word that had her stamping on the brakes in instinctive panic. The huge truck that had barrelled through the red light at the intersection just ahead missed smashing into their vehicle with all of its force, it caught the driver's side and sent them pinwheeling to face the wrong direction in a bewildering whirl of breaking glass and metal twisting against metal.

...

There were some memories that were burned into Bonnibel's brain, almost too-real. Hyper real. The day Neddy broke his leg and how he'd screamed in agony, how the doctors had given him pain killers and he'd calmed down to just a whimper and how awed she'd been, how she vowed then and htere that one day she'd be a doctor too. Saying out loud for the first time that she was gay and not ashamed of it, saying it to her own fifteen year old reflection in the mirror and reassuring herself it was going to be ok. When Marceline had told her the test was positive, she was pregnant and they were going to be parents. That terrible day when the twins had only been a little over a year old, looking down and feeling like she was going to faint because that was blood and she was only seven weeks gone and she didn't need the medical degree to know what was happening; it had taken four attempts for her to get pregnant at all and she was losing her baby _._ And now standing in the elevator willing it to go faster and let her down to the accident and emergency department so she could see for herself and still the glacial terror filling her limbs.

The words echoed around the inside of her head like ghosts; _car accident, your partner and children._ They were only a couple of blocks away from the hospital when it happened and without her usual logical detachment to keep her grounded Bonnie found it all too easy to slip back into the long habits of her childhood; she sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Virgin Mary for the single small mercy of not having to get across town to the other hospital like she had the day Marcy fainted.

Finally the elevator shuddered to a halt. Bonnie was tripping forward into the corridor before the doors were even fully open and hurrying forward, ignoring the stares and mutters from the people on her periphery. They didn't matter, they barely even existed to her. Only Marcy and the kids mattered. She needed to know what had happened.

A&E was plenty busy and disorientating. Bonnie spun on her heel, staring around wildly for any sign of where the four people who made up her whole world had gone. A small hand took hers and she whirled down to hug her child before she even knew which one it was.

"Mummy's got blood on her." Philip sobbed uncontrollably as he buried his face in her shoulder. "Mama, make her better. I shouted and it was my fault."

"Show me where she is." Bonnie replied shakily. He hiccuped a couple of times and wiped his nose against her shoulder before taking her hand and tugging her away in the direction of a screened off cubicle. With her heart in her mouth Bonnie stepped around the screen and came face to face with a doctor she didn't recognise.

"Sarah Armstrong, I'm the trauma consultant on call today. Relax, everything's fine. Your partner is just getting cleaned up by one of our nurses and you can take her home. She has a small abrasion to the left shoulder from her seat belt, nothing's broken."

Bonnie nodded and replied with something that sounded medical and responsible to the small part of her brain still working, but she was looking over the heavyset woman's shoulder to the examination bed behind her where her daughters sat. Dr Armstrong caught her gaze and hurried to reassure her.

"All three kids are fine too, not a scratch between them. Lucky she was driving a Volvo and hit the breaks when she did or this might have ended much worse."

"MAMA!" Sofia yelled when she looked around and caught sight of Bonnie. And then all three kids were wrapped in her arms without her remembering how and the terror was turning to relief and an almost overwhelming urge to laugh and cry at the same time.

"Are you mad at us?" Ingrid whispered softly when Bonnie didn't let go of them, just kept on hugging them tightly to herself.

"No, sweetheart. I love you all so much and I was really scared when I heard there'd been an accident. What happened?"

"Um, I dunno. Mummy drived into a truck."

"She just... Drove into a truck? Are you sure?"

"Yep. And Philip got scared and yelled but I didn't cause I'm a big girl."

"Looks like a truck ran right through a red light and went into the side of your car." Armstrong informed her with a small smile for Ingrid's confusion. "From what she said it hit just in front of the driver's seat so your partner took the brunt of the impact. She'd have been completely broadsided instead of just taking a glancing blow if she hadn't acted as quickly as she did."

Her throat was dry, Bonnie realised. Suddenly she was thirsty and exhausted and all she wanted was to wrap the people she loved into a blanket and hold them close. Ingrid was talking again and the doctor was saying something and Bonnie just nodded. With the adrenaline wearing off and a real crisis averted she realised she was sliding into shock for the second time in just over a month. First the incident with Violet, now this. It was getting harder and harder to stop everyone from hurting themselves and that terrified her almost as much as the phone call telling her there'd been as accident had. And then the most incredible, familiar arms were wrapping around her and Bonnie didn't even need to hear her voice to know it was Marcy, safe and relatively unhurt. She clung on tightly, just recommitting every single sensation of having her partner in her arms to memory.

"I thought something terrible happened." Bonnie whispered over the reassuring thump of Marcy's heart loud in her ear where she had her head pressed against the other woman's chest.

"I'm ok, babe. The kids are ok. The car's really not ok but that doesn't matter. They said we can go home since it was just a small tear on my shoulder. Come on, let's go home." Marcy murmured in reply. Her voice was almost completely normal, probably no one else would have noticed the tiny waver in her words that gave away her own terror.

It was a squeeze to fit all five of them into the Tesla but the kids were all quite subdued still and it wasn't all that far to drive home. Philip especially barely spoke a word, even when Ina asked him if he was sad and prodded his knee. Everyone was exhausted by the time they were home, it was a quiet evening of TV and takeout because there was no way Marcy was going to cook when she felt like she was about to collapse. Finally Sofia's bedtime rolled around and the twins didn't even complain when they were put to bed earlier than usual. Bonnie finished tucking Ingrid in with an extra close hug and a whispered promise that they'd be right there if she needed anything in the night. She'd expected to meet Marcy out in the hall but her partner was still talking to Philip in a low voice so Bonnie simply leaned in the doorway and waited.

"You were so brave today, little man. I'm so sorry that it got scary, sorry I didn't see the truck sooner. Thank you for yelling and getting my attention like you did, you were a hero. But you understand it was the man in the truck's fault for ignoring the traffic lights, yeah?"

"Uh-huh. Mummy, the lady said I didn't tell you quick enough."

"What lady, darling?"

"The nice lady. She got hair like you and she likes to talk to me. She said to be careful."

"You mean the nice doctor at the hospital who fixed my hurt shoulder? She had dark hair too but hers was much shorter, are you sure-"

"Not the doctor, Mummy. The nie mirror lady! She said!"

"Philip, is this like Clarence again? Is the nice lady a special friend who only talks to you?"

"She only came today because of the car, she lives in the mirror where Mama makes her face pretty. She saw the truck."

"So the nice lady was the one who saw the truck and she told you to tell me?"

"Yeah. Mummy, where's Mr Bat?"

"He's right here, darling. I'm gonna go and let you sleep now, ok? But we're right downstairs if you need anything, you can always come in with us if you have a nightmare or you feel scared, ok? I love you so much, my little man. You mean the whole world to me. Can I get a goodnight kiss?"

"Night night, Mummy."

"Night night, Philip. Sweet dreams."

It was two very subdued adults who snuggled up together on the sofa that evening. Something was on Marcy's mind and Bonnie got the feeling she was going to take a while to process her near-death experience. She sympathised, it had felt totally unreal when she realised that Dr King had been legitimately planning to murder her that night five years ago, it would take some time to sink in for Marceline especially since she was full of unresolved issues about death.

"Philip's seeing a new ghost." Marcy finally muttered.

"Imagining a new ghost." Bonnie corrected her automatically.

"I want to agree with you, but I don't. He's seeing a ghost."

"Marcy, come on. Let's not have this same argument all over again, not tonight. Can't we just snuggle and watch whatever crap is on TV and just be glad nobody was seriously hurt?"

"He was putting makeup on the mirror on your vanity today. He said he was making her pretty. And he said the same lady told him to tell me about the truck. Bon, you know how you made sure the kids all understand German?"

"He shouted it in German?"

"No. He shouted it in Gujarati. I'd swear it on my mother's grave, babe, he said 'atakava'. That means 'stop'. He warned me to stop driving in a language he doesn't even speak."

Bonnie managed not to sigh out loud but it was a close thing. As overcome with relief as she was there were limits. And it sounded like Marceline was convinced their son was haunted by a ghost that spoke Gujarati which felt just a bit too convenient to the redhead.

"So what are you trying to say?" she asked as carefully as she could.

"My mother's spirit is reaching out to him. Don't! Don't you dare tell me it's bullshit or scientifically impossible or whatever. How else do you explain him talking to a woman in the old mirror that I _inherited from my mother_ , and then later the same day warning me about an approaching danger in a language he doesn't speak but that I do? How could he have possibly known that word?" Marcy asked. She pulled out of Bonnie's arms and backed away, unwilling to process even the idea of criticism.

"You said it yourself, he doesn't speak Gujarati. And you do, and you just spoke it to an old woman at the supermarket before the accident. I think the two things got mixed up in your memory and because you had a shock your brain interpreted it as him speaking another language when he probably just screamed or something. I think you need to rest and recover before you start jumping to any conclusions about what happened." Bonnie replied as gently as she could. Marcy didn't reply, she sighed as she was tugged back into a hug and they resumed trying to pretend the whole day hadn't happened. She was perfectly willing to fall asleep wrapped in her partner's arms that night but she didn't forget what had happened and she knew she wasn't going to change her mind just as completely as she knew that Bonnie didn't believe her.

...

"Ok, I've gotta go to work. Are you gonna be alright with the kids today?"

"We'll be fine, my shoulder is sore and I'm tired but I'll cope."

It took a surprising amount of strength to kiss Marcy goodbye and go to work the next day. Bonnie was worried about her, torn between her natural tendency towards overworking herself and wanting to stay home with the family. But luckily from her perspective, unluckily for Marceline, a familiar car was pulling up outside the house as she was about to unlock her own vehicle.

"Bonnibel, how is she?"

"Morning, Hunson. Marcy's fine, the kids are fine. Did you bring the whole house?" she replied with a wry smile when he began pulling bags and boxes from the back seat.

"Just a few things to help. I know how she gets, she'll be trying to climb the roof to fix the guttering with only one hand if someone doesn't keep an eye on her."

"Bonnie, tell me you did not call my father." Marceline interrupted from the doorway.

"What are you doing out of bed? You have a broken shoulder, you need to rest!" Hunson replied before the redhead could, hurrying forwards and taking Sofia out of her arms with one hand while he tried to balance half of his bags and boxes with the other.

"I'm just bruised, Daddy! Honestly, you didn't need to come all this way-"

"Didn't need to but I wanted to make sure you were ok. Oh and Theresa said she'll drop by after the lunchtime rush with some cakes and sandwiches so no need for you to worry yourself about cooking. Come on inside, you can't be walking around all over the place with broken limbs!"

"Not broken, just bruised." Marcy sighed to nobody since her father was already inside the house arranging sofa cushions and directing the twins to help bring in the bags he'd left by the car. She turned to glare at her partner instead but Bonnie had retreated to the relative safety of her car and managed to escape out onto the road before she could be accused of overreacting. Yes Hunson could be hard to handle and annoying, Marceline definitely got her stubborn streak from him, but he absolutely wouldn't let her do anything too strenuous while her shoulder was still recovering. It had been the best compromise Bonnie could think of. She was still feeling a little guilty about springing a surprise visit from her father on Marcy though, as good as their relationship was these days she'd probably have preferred Simon to come over instead. But it was too far to ask the older man to come first thing in the morning, he wasn't in the best health either. Bonnie was still worrying about it as she parked the car at work and it took her a moment to register that someone was speaking to her.

"Morning, Dr Sugar. How are the family doing?"

It was the same heavyset doctor from the emergency department, Bonnie had already forgotten her name.

"Oh, good morning. They're fine, thanks. The kids didn't stay in their own beds last night but that's to be expected. Um, thank you for looking after them yesterday."

"It's Dr Armstrong." the other woman provided with a knowing smile. "You'd forgotten, I understand. If it was my girlfriend who'd totalled the car with the kids in it I'd have been in shock, too. Tell them I was asking after them, ok?"

She waved and made her way to the side entrance while Bonnie headed to the elevators and up to her own department. It was an unusually slow morning, between a couple of consultations that were either straightforward enough to be short or cancelled at the last minute the redhead found herself with a surprisingly long lunch break. She was glad for the excuse to get outside into the hospital's small memorial garden. It was stiflingly hot inside even with the windows open and the fans blowing. What Bonnie didn't appreciate was the hazy peace being shattered by the roar of an engine. She looked up to scan the staff car park, wondering who the hell was making all the noise, and found herself looking at Dr Armstrong again. This time though the other woman was in bike leathers and had her arms locked tight around the waist of an unmistakably female rider as they tore out onto the main road.

"Lyds, do you know a Dr Armstrong down in A&E?" Bonnie asked once she was back to her own department ten minutes later. "Tall, kinda... thick looking? Not like, dumb. Just... you know. Big. Rides a motorbike, short dark hair."

"Oh, you met Sarah?" Lydia replied with her eyes sparkling. "Yeah, I know her. She only started a few weeks ago. Yeah, she usually rides amotorcycle, she only does half-days because her son's still really small. I thought you two might hit it off."

"And why would you think that?"

"You're both fitness freaks who are married with kids and are about the same age. And you're both doctors."

"No way is that woman a fitness freak. Her arms are huge." Bonnie scowled. She didn't want to admit that Lydia was pretty much right about everything else.

"She's not as into cardio as you. But she is a former champion weightlifter, she gave me some awesome tips on how to tone up my butt. And, that's not all you've got in common y'know." Lydia finished, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "She bats on Team Ellen, if you know what I mean."

"Thanks Lyds but I'm not automatically best buds with every lesbian on the planet. There are a lot of us."

So, Dr Sarah Armstrong was a muscular, butch biker-dyke who'd seen her emotional and panicking about her family yesterday. Bonnibel could already feel a distinct bad opinion forming in her mind. One thing she absolutely couldn't abide was competition. Small mercies though; everyone was mostly unhurt, Marcy must be feeling better if she'd already moved on to some imagined drama involving the ghost of her dead mother and the only real casualty was Bonnie's ego. If it took her looking like a weak mess in front of some big muscly lesbian cliche then she'd still count that as a win and be thankful about it.

Once safely enclosed within her office Bonnie took a steadying breath and unlocked the bottom drawer of her desk. That drawer contained secrets, things she couldn't keep at home for whatever reason. This was one of them, one of the ones she was most ashamed of. Because if she revealed it to Marceline she could at best expect to be mercilessly teased about it and at worst... No, it was easier to just keep it at work which was where she used it to the majority of the time anyway. She reverently lifted out the worn string of wooden rosary beads that had been passed down from her grandmother and with the grace trained into her since childhood she began to recite the Lord's Prayer silently as the first bead slid through her fingers. Bonnie didn't believe, not in her heart of hearts, but she needed to do something to find a sense of closure and giving thanks in a habit established so early in her life had always proved to be the best way to do it. Sometimes a patient pulled through when she hadn't expected them to and she wanted to acknowledge it in some way, sometimes a diagnosis blindsided her or found a weak link in her professional armour and left an emotional wound. As amazing as logic and science were they didn't allow any room for the messy side of human emotion and Bonnibel wasn't stupid enough to pretend she didn't need that sometimes. Not anymore, not since the twins. By the third Hail Mary Bonnie was murmuring the words out loud to herself as she had so many times in the past and falling back into the meditation-like calm that always fell across her mind when she allowed herself a moment of ritual thanks.

"Gegrüßet seist du Maria, voll der Gnade..."


	11. Chapter 11

**So I guess I took another mini hiatus, I'm sorry guys. I am genuinely trying to write as much as I can, I'm just bad at motivation and SADs is kicking my butt. Apologies.**

 **A wild Muscle Princess appears! And her OC wife because honestly I just couldn't find an AT character who fit! I always had a soft spot for Muscle Princess, I wish we'd gotten to see more of her. What an awesome character! What a missed opportunity to have some butch lady representation! But either way she's one of my babies now and I will write her to her full awesome bench-pressing potential.**

 **And you know what I've not done in a while? I've not told you to go read other stuff. And I have been remiss in my duty. My hardcore kinky BDSM collab with the ever-amazing Abelmayfair finally updated (my fault, sorry) and my awesome friend CountingWithTurkeys continues to write fantastic stories over in the Musicology series. Go read! Read the world! Review them, tell them I say hi! You won't regret it.**

 **Content Warning: Punk!Ingrid has no fear of pain (but does have a temper), Rainbow Family Alliance should be a thing everywhere, Bonnie Bonnieing at Maximum Bonnie.**

* * *

In the past Marceline had heard that there was no sound more joyful and beautiful than the laughter of a child and naively she'd believed it. It turned out that the same people who'd told her that were never the people who got woken up by that laughter at five in the morning and opened their eyes to discover the gloomy outline of their five year old daughter giggling and covered in blood.

"Mummy, look! I got it out!"

Once the inevitable shrieking had died down, the lamp had been switched on and Bonnie had had the sensible idea to wipe Ina's face clean instead of freezing in horror like her partner, it transpired that 'it' was Ina's very first ever loose tooth. And that she'd woken up early, found she could wiggle it, and proceeded to rip it out of her mouth with her bare hands.

"Why? Why would you hurt yourself like that?" Marcy asked her, still a little bleary and confused, with exactly zero emotional shields and feeling a bit like she wanted to cry.

"Cause," Ingrid shrugged like it was no big deal, "it was annoying me."

"Ina, don't just yank your loose teeth out because they're annoying! You've got to wait for them to fall out on their own!" Marcy replied, exasperated.

"It didn't hurt too bad. I wanted to see the Tooth Fairy."

"The Tooth Fairy only comes when you're asleep."

"Oh. Can I glue the tooth back in then?"

"No, darling, I'll look after the tooth and we'll put it under your pillow tonight. Don't ever put glue in your mouth, ok?"

Ingrid sulked over breakfast and whined that her gums hurt. By the time everyone was finished eating and they were dressing for the day she'd exhausted both wells of parental sympathy.

"My mouth _hurts_." Ingrid insisted, again, five minutes after she'd been given a dose of baby painkiller.

"The medicine needs half an hour to start working and I'm literally making you an ice pack for your mouth right now. Ina, go sit with your Mum and I'll bring you this when it's ready." Bonnie sighed as she dug through the freezer looking for ice.

"I want more medicine." Ingrid replied stubbornly.

"Well you're not having more for another six hours. Go wait in the lounge, sweetie."

She hadn't been prepared for the sudden pain of a small foot connecting with her leg and an explosion of screaming.

"I HATE YOU MAMA AND I HOPE YOUR TEETH HURT TOO AND YOU CRY TOO AND NOBODY LETS YOU HAVE ANY MEDICINE!"

Before her mother could react Ingrid was out of the open back door and sprinting away to the bottom of the garden to her favourite warm-weather sulking spot, the little wooden bench at the side of the shed. That's where Bonnie found her five minutes later, kicking the dirt with her bare feet and sniffling like she was ashamed of her tears. They sat together in silence for a moment while Bonnie tried to think of a way to start talking without provoking another fight.

"I brought your ice pack." she began, holding it out as a peace offering. Ingrid took it and turned it over in her hands for a moment before swinging her arm back and with an admittedly impressive overarm toss sent it sailing over the fence into the small clump of trees behind the house.

"Ingrid!"

"I want more medicine." Ingrid informed her mother with a scowl.

"You are being extremely naughty this morning and if you don't apologise you'll be staying home today instead of going to the picnic." Bonnie warned her.

"Don't wanna go." Ina muttered, although she dropped her gaze from Bonnie's face with a flush when it became obvious that she wasn't going to win their staring competition.

"That's a shame. Jake and Lady were looking forward to seeing you."

"Jake and Lady are going?"

"They were. I might have to call them and cancel because you're too naughty, I don't think they want to drive all this way to see a naughty niece. You bruised my leg, you know?"

"Sorry, Mama. Can I go to the picnic?" Ina asked with her biggest puppydog eyes.

"I accept your apology. I know your mouth hurts, sweetie, but that's because you pulled your tooth out instead of letting it come out naturally. So I'm going to believe that you can be good today and I'm going to let you come to the picnic, but if I have to tell you off again I'll make sure the Tooth Fairy hears about it and she won't come to see you tonight. Do we have a deal?"

Ingrid nodded but didn't reply. Bonnie crouched down in front of her until she caught her daughter's reluctant gaze.

"It hurts." she whispered.

"I know it does. I also know you're brave and you can be good even when it hurts. Are you gonna come get dressed?"

Ina nodded and allowed herself to be hugged and carried back into the house. It was approximately thirty minutes after she'd had her painkillers and it was no mystery to Bonnie why her daughter had calmed down. She exchanged a silent look of apprehension with Marcy as she took Ina up to her bedroom to pick out some clothes. It was going to be a long day, they could both feel it.

…

The Rainbow Family Alliance Annual Picnic had been a tradition since the twins had been a few months old and Marcy had complained that they didn't know any other LGBTQ families. It was fun, especially since they'd consistently missed Pride five years in a row due to schedule clashes and one case of explosive toddler stomach. A large group of families took over the park, there was an informal parenting trouble-shooting session and everyone went home with a slice of cake and a small bag of toys for the kids. It was a place they felt very relaxed and happy, a place where Bonnie could engage in her friendly competitive rivalry with the other lesbian mothers and be reasonably certain she'd win whatever it was they'd decided to make into a competition that year. A place where-

"Dr Sugar! Hey! Good to see you, I didn't know you'd be coming along today!"

Marcy waved and the kids joined in happily, forcing Bonnie to lift her own hand in a half-hearted greeting while she hissed under her breath to her partner.

" _What the fuck is Sarah fucking Armstrong doing here?_ "

"Language, babe. Tiny people are present. Dr Armstrong! Great to see you again!"

There she was in all of her butch glory, ridiculously tight muscle vest and dark hair spiked up into a fauxhawk rather than the usual soft layers of her shaggy pixie cut. She was followed by a round faced little girl with her syrup-blonde hair in pigtails and an equally short haired and well muscled brunette woman holding a baby boy. And she was smiling around benignly like she was genuinely happy to see them. Bonnie felt her polite smile warp on her face into a grimace. Was there anything Dr Armstrong didn't ruin for her?

"My wife Mikayla, and our two kids. Isabella's coming up six and William's nine months old." Dr Armstrong was telling Marcy when Bonnie's blind rage receded enough for her to follow the conversation.

"I'm Isabella but you can call me Izzy. William's my brother." the little girl announced importantly. "Are you the doctor Mum said she met at work?"

"I'm her partner." Marcy replied with a smile, crouching down to talk on her level. "That's my girlfriend Bonnie, she works with your Mum. And we have kids too, we've got a twin boy and girl who are five and a younger girl who'll be two next week. Kids, come say hi!"

The twins and Izzy soon trooped off through the patchwork of picnic blankets and laughing families together but Bonnie snagged Sofia on her way past.

"Not you, Blue Eyes. You stay where I can see you."

It bothered her that Marcy was unfolding their picnic blanket right next to the Armstrongs' and setting up the little travel barbeque while she laughed and chatted with them. Bonnie huddled in churlish silence on her edge of the blanket and mostly watched Sofia crawl around with Swchabl, speaking only when spoken to. She pretended she couldn't hear the low conversation Armstrong and Marceline were engaged in and busied herself texting Jake to ask what time he'd be coming along that day.

"Is Dr Sugar ok? She's awful quiet." Armstrong was whispering.

"Bon? She's probably just tired. She has a lot of extra work going on with some research stuff, I dunno. And Ina was being an absolute little asshole this morning, she required a firm dose of Mama discipline because I'm too soft with them and they know it. I'm worried she's getting a little burnt out." Marcy sighed back.

Bonnie wanted to say she wasn't burnt out, just annoyed at having her weekend hijacked by her rival, but she also didn't want to admit she'd been eavesdropping. So she huffed to herself and turned her head further away, to where Sofia and the puppy were rolling around together giggling and yapping. She was saved from her undignified sulk by the timely arrival of Jake, Lady and their messy brood of offspring. Violet shrieked happily when she saw Bonnie and leaped on her for a hug, it gave the redhead her first genuine smile of the picnic.

"What up, Babygoth? Your hotdogs are getting charred." Jake announced by way of greeting as he flung himself down next to Marcy.

"Take over, by all means. These are Drs Sarah and Mikayla Armstrong and their little boy William, by the way. Out friends Jake, Lady, and assorted kids." Marcy added over her shoulder to her new acquaintances.

Rounds of greetings were exchanged while Jake rescued the somewhat overdone sausages Marceline had been haphazardly barbequing and Bonnie sat quietly, staring down at her feet and feeling stupid. A couple of minutes later she felt the picnic blanket move next to her and looked around to find Lady proffering a sausage in a bun.

"Dr Armstrong seems very nice." her old friend observed quietly under the cover of Jake's barking laughter. Bonnie just shrugged in reply. "She seems very funny and friendly, very fit, young, pretty in an unconventional way, very happy with her wife and lovely kids. You're jealous."

"I am not _jealous._ " Bonnie ground out, more irked than she wanted to admit.

"She's pretty and funny and way more visibly queer than you. As an emergency trauma consultant she's got one of the few jobs in the hospital that's higher status than yours. She drives a really cool motorbike. Your eye just twitched, Bonnibel. This is why I always beat you at poker, I know all your tells."

"Everyone thinks she's so cool." Bonnie mumbled around a mouthful of food that she barely tasted.

"And what's wrong with that? Other people are allowed to be cool." Lady shrugged.

"She just bothers me." Bonnie replied. "And I don't know why and I don't like it."

Lady was quiet for a long moment, staring off contemplatively while she nibbled daintily on her own hotdog. Maybe she'd been about to reply but a familiar howl of childish sadness cut through the air and Bonnie was on her feet and hurrying towards the noise before she'd even consciously decided to move. Ingrid was standing beside the play area in the middle of the park crying snottily while Philip petted her back and scanned the horizon for adult assistance. He sagged in relief when he saw his Mama hurrying towards them.

"Ina, what's wrong? Are you hurt? Come here, baby." Bonnie soothed as she gathered her daughter up into her arms.

It was hard to make out what Ina was saying around the copious amount of snot and tears glazing her face as well as the odd whistling caused by her missing bottom tooth. Bonnie frowned and tried to understand her words but it all came out as a garbled, gulping mess.

"Izzy said the Tooth Fairy isn't real." Philip supplied, still hovering worriedly by his mother's side.

"Didn't know she would cry like a big baby." the older girl shrugged. Bonnie narrowed her eyes in dislike. She didn't usually judge a kid for doing kid stuff but that was more than she was willing to stand from Armstrong's daughter. Luckily for Izzy she was saved from Bonnie's wrath by the timely intervention of her mother.

"Isabella Felicity Howell-Armstrong you apologise right now! You've made Ingrid very sad and you're being very rude to Dr Sugar! What do we do when other people have different beliefs to us?" Dr Armstrong scolded.

"Respect them." Izzy muttered like it was something she heard at least once a day, although she was still glaring up mutinously at where Ingrid was wiping her nose against Bonnie's shirt.

"It's not your place to tell other little girls what is or isn't real for them. Go and sit with your Mummy and brother and think about what you've done. I'm sorry, Dr Sugar. She's so headstrong sometimes, she doesn't mean to offend but she's got a real bossy streak to her." Dr Armstrong sighed as she watched her daughter slouch off to their picnic blanket to receive further scolding from her other mother.

"Kids are kids." Bonnie muttered uncomfortably.

"She's testing boundaries just recently. Let me make this up to you, we'll get together some time. The kids can play together and hopefully you'll get the chance to see that Izzy isn't always a horrible little monster. Maybe next weekend?"

"We're away next weekend. Camping."

"The weekend after? I only do one weekend shift per week unless they need me for overtime. And I can bring my signature coconut cake."

"I like coconut cake." Philip piped up unexpectedly. And that settled that, Izzy her annoying mothers were going to come over for a playdate some time. Bonnie spent the rest of the picnic watching the kids like a hawk and running through every German curse word she knew in her head.

...

"We're not going camping, Bonnie. It's Sofia's birthday and the kids are enough work when we have access to hot water and indoor plumbing." Marceline frowned over her book that night in bed.

"I already told Armstrong that we were camping, don't make me into a liar." Bonnie replied. She avoided her partner's eyes, not wanting to give away how guilty she was feeling. "Sofia's still too little to understand what her birthday means and we can be back on the Sunday afternoon for your father and TT to make a fuss of her."

"What's up with you, anyway? You had this whole hardcore glaring thing going on for the whole picnic. Sarah's really cool, you'd think with so much in common you'd get along better." Marcy replied with a shrug.

"Oh so now she's 'Sarah'? If you think she's so cool why don't you just marry her?" Bonnie asked hotly.

"Because she already has a really cool wife. Mikayla's a doctor too, you know. She's a brain surgeon."

"Oh wow, isn't Mikayla so clever and special."

"Bon, stop being childish. They're nice people and their kids are nice. Yes, even though Izzy made Ina cry. How many times has Violet made Ina cry? And we still let them play together. Kids upset each other, that's just normal kid behaviour."

"I don't want to be best friends with Dr Stupid Perfect Armstrong or her stupid perfect family."

"If I agree to go camping will you at least let them come over for the playdate you already agreed to? Bonnie?"

"...Fine."

"One day that runaway competitive streak you love to indulge in is going to get you into trouble." Marcy predicted with a sage nod. She rolled over and tried to slide her arm around the redhead but Bonnie shrugged her off and sat up. "You're mad at me now, too?"

"No, I just remembered I need to go collect Ina's tooth from under her pillow. I got her to agree to put it out for the Tooth Fairy anyway, just in case. Go to sleep, Marcy. I'm feeling antsy, I might stay up a while."

Bonnie missed her partner's shrug, she was already out of bed and heading towards the door. She crept across the dark hallway and carefully opened Ingrid's bedroom door, paused to make sure there was no change in the quiet breathing coming from within, then tiptoed inside. Ingrid was splayed out on her back in her bed surrounded by a crowd of so many stuffed animals she almost had no room. The tooth was in a special little pouch Marcy had dug out of her craft drawer and it was relatively easy to slide it out from under Ina's pillow. The difficulty came from trying to replace the pouch with its precious cargo of money back under the pillow. One tiny slip had the coins clinking together right by Ingrid's ear. Bonnie held her breath and for a second it looked like she'd gotten away with it. But then her daughter's eyes opened and she stared up blearily.

"...Mama?"

"Hey, little one. I was just checking on you." Bonnie whispered with what she hoped was a natural looking smile.

"Did the Tooth Fairy come yet?" Ingrid asked.

"Probably not yet, you should go back to sleep and wait more-"

"Mama! There's money in my pillow!"

Bonnie sighed internally. Of all the ways the night could have gone Ingrid waking up and getting excited was the last thing she'd wanted, it was always a fight to get her eldest daughter to sleep even on a good day.

"Ok, well I guess the Tooth Fairy did come then. Go back to sleep, sweetie. It's very late."

Ingrid was ignoring her, sitting up in her bed and stacking her coins excitedly on her nightstand. Bonnie collected them and put them into the piggybank next to the lamp instead, giving Ingrid a pointed look that apparently went right over the little head.

"Mama..." Ingrid started when she went to tuck her back in and kiss her forehead.

"Yes?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, sweetie."

"Today, Izzy said the Tooth Fairy wasn't real and it's just you. Are you the Tooth Fairy?"

She paused for a second, considering. Be the sort of parent who lied to their child even if it was a socially acceptable lie? Or raise her daughter with the principles of truth and rationality?

"Yes, sweetie, I'm sorry. I am the Tooth Fairy." Bonnie agreed with an apologetic smile. Ingrid's eyes widened in delight.

"I knew it! You're the Tooth Fairy! Can you fly? Can I come with you to collect teeth?"

"No, that's not what I..." Bonnie paused and her brain went through some complex mental loops. Was it really so bad to let Ingrid think she was magical? Just while she was little, before the harshness of reality dimmed her sense of wonder? That felt like a very Marcy sort of thought but she couldn't deny that it had some appeal. "I can't fly when kids are watching, the magic only works when you're asleep."

"Oh." Ingrid replied softly, looking down in disappointment.

"One day when you're a grown up, if you have babies of your own, you might get to be the Tooth Fairy, too." Bonnie told her with a fond smile. It was true, one day if Ingrid chose to make them grandparents it was entirely possible that she'd be in exactly the same position.

"When you retire I can be the Tooth Fairy." Ingrid agreed around a sudden yawn.

"One day, maybe. Bed time now though, little monster. You're still too little to be up at night." Bonnie agreed as she helped Ina lay back down yet again and pressed a fond kiss to her forehead.

"Are you going to bed now, Mama?" Ingrid asked sleepily.

"I've got important Tooth Fairy business to do tonight, I need you to go to sleep or I won't be able to fly." Bonnie explained.

Ingrid shut her eyes tight and smiled happily. She was lying down and quiet, it was almost worth the guilty prickles against Bonnie's conscience telling her she'd broken her promise not to lie to the kids twice now. Ingrid would probably forget about it in a couple of days anyway. Maybe.

...

By the time the next weekend arrived just as gloriously warm and sunny as the last, Bonnie had almost convinced herself that she was taking the kids camping because she enjoyed it and not because she'd somehow thought that it was a clever way to avoid the irksome Dr Armstrong and her daughter. The Volvo had finally been returned from the garage with its bodywork fixed and driver's door completely replaced after Marcy's crash a couple of weeks before and even though it looked completely new she handed the keys to her partner with obvious relief. It had transpired that the truck driver hadn't stopped at the traffic lights because they were broken, technically nobody was at fault. She still felt a little anxious about driving again though, especially with the kids in the back. It was easier to busy herself with packing the tent, at least a week's worth of food and clothing just in case, bags and bags of toys and various assorted camping equipment Bonnie had insisted was definitely necessary.

"Babe, do you really need a backup multi-tool?" Marcy asked when curiosity lead her to open the bag ominously labelled _'spares (emergency)'._

"I will if I lose my travel multi-tool." Bonnie replied. She was distracted and only barely listening, half watching the kids to make sure they were being careful loading Schwabl into the car with them and half triple checking the door was locked and the windows were all closed.

"There's so much stuff in here, we're not going to fit it all in the tent." Marcy frowned.

"We can leave some of it in the car."

"Ok? And what if we need it in the night?"

"The car will be parked right next to the tent, relax."

"...Bon, what kind of campsite lets you park the car next to the tent? Bonnie? Bonnibel. Look at me. Look me in the eye and tell me you booked a campsite."

Yes, it was manipulative to wait until they were about to hit the road to drop her bombshell. Because Marceline stuck to the few principles she had and one of those was not fighting in front of the kids. Philip was gazing out of the open car at them, following every single word of their conversation. There was no way Marcy was going to yell about anything with their son watching, and that was what Bonnie had been banking on.

"Campsites are a waste of time and money, we'll be much closer to nature in the woods. It's better for the kids." Bonnie replied. She tried to push as much bossiness and finality into her voice as possible but Marceline was still scowling darkly at her and as their car pulled onto the road she twisted in her seat so her knees were pointing away and her upper body was almost completely turned from the driver's side. That was a sure sign she was angry and Bonnie did suffer a pang of guilt but she knew once they reached their destination the kids would be thrilled and it would be worth it. If she'd told Marceline where they were going ahead of time then it would never have happened.

An hour and a half down the motorway she pulled off onto a small country road and Marcy finally swivelled back in her seat, still scowling for all she was worth.

"Why are we going down the road to your brother's place?" she demanded.

"Because we're camping in his woods." Bonnie replied.

"Are we going to see Uncle Ned?" Ina asked in excitement, looking up from the tablet she and Philip had been watching cartoons on.

"He's going to meet us for dinner." Bonnie confirmed. She avoided the _look_ Marceline was giving her and kept her eyes on the road. "I thought it would be a fun surprise for everyone."

"You clearly put _so much_ thought into it." Marcy muttered angrily.

"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you." Bonnie replied, unwilling to get drawn into a sniping war.

"And yet you put me in situations where you know it'll be my first response."

"Well, the kids are excited to see their uncle again, it'll be good for us to get out someplace genuinely wild and we're already most of the way there so I feel somewhat justified in telling you to suck it up, Buttercup."

Marceline grunted something to herself that sounded a lot like she was swearing and a little like she was plotting a murder. Bonnie was completely unrepentant though, she knew Marcy would forgive her when she saw how much fun the kids were having.

It was a long, hot, sticky drive. The only real mercy was that the kids were pretty quiet, they'd deliberately timed the driving for when Blue Eyes took her mid-morning nap so she slept through most of the trip and by the time she woke and was fussing for her lunch they were almost at Ned's cabin. He met them outside, topless and barefoot as usual in the summer months, and annoyingly not alone.

"Auntie Keila!" Ingrid squealed, and shot out to hug her the minute her car door was opened.

"Hey, Ina! I came down to spend the weekend with you guys!" Keila replied.

It was still a mystery to everyone what Neddy and Keila even were. Were they a couple? Just close friends? Bonnie and Marcy had both tried to pry information over the years, in increasingly less subtle ways, and the only thing they'd been able to discover was that Ned and Keila enjoyed each other's company immensely and didn't like labels. Bonnie knew her brother was an intensely private person and probably that he didn't want to constrain either of them by adhering to narrow social rules of what 'couples' should be. Marceline was convinced Keila was withholding information deliberately to annoy her. Either way, Keila was often to be found at Ned's place, he even came up to the city and stayed in her apartment sometimes. She hadn't talked about any dates or boyfriends since they'd met when the twins were born and she always wore a smug grin and said it was complicated when anyone asked if she was seeing someone.

It was, Marcy later grudgingly admitted, a nice afternoon. They drove out to the hazel grove a mile or so from Ned's cabin and pitched the tent, they had a picnic lunch and the kids raced around with Schwabl and all of Ned's dogs, shrieking and burning off some of their boundless energy. Philip found a pond and was suitably amazed at his uncle's stone skipping technique, Keila regaled Ingrid with folk stories about the different tree spirits in the woods and their complicated social life and Sofia seemed to have been accepted as the leader of Ned's pack of dogs; they followed her around and watched her carefully, guarding her tiny steps with vigilance and obvious adoration. Bikes were ridden, stick fights were hastily broken up, insect bites were soothed with lotion from Bonnie's extensive first aid kit. It was almost an idyllic day. Even Neddy's presence had stopped irking Marceline by the time the kids were asleep in the tent and they were sitting drinking cocoa around the together campfire.

"I'm still mad at you." Marceline muttered into her drink, although her other hand was entwined with the redhead's and she'd scooted closer to lean up against Bonnie's shoulder.

"The kids are having a great time." Bonnie replied. It was her only defence and usually it was a good bet that Marcy would cave and go along with anything if it meant the kids were happy.

"And they could have had a great time without you having to go behind my back like this. This is just like when the twins were born and you invited Neddy to stay without telling me first. Bon, we're supposed to be a team. I'm hurt that you'd think I was such as asshole that I wouldn't let your brother see his family if you just asked."

Bonnie sighed, mostly upset with herself. Had she just slipped back into her old habits of thinking she was the only one who was reasonable or able to make plans? She'd worked long and hard with her therapist to learn to ease up on her control complex when the twins had been babies, it disturbed her that she'd apparently just regressed without warning.

"I wasn't trying to deliberately manipulate you." she finally whispered.

"Yes you were, this was definitely deliberate. I just want to know that you trust me, babe."

"I do trust you."

"Then let me be involved in the decision making process. Stop acting like you're the only person whose opinion matters. I thought you'd worked on your control issues when you saw the therapist."

Bonnie wanted to be hurt, really she did, but deep down she knew Marceline was right. She'd just gone ahead and done what pleased her without ever thinking that her partner's opinion was valid or should even be considered. Shame filled her and she hung her head.

"I never meant to make you feel like I didn't respect your decisions." she murmured.

"I know, and that almost makes it worse. It wasn't even a conscious choice for you, you cut me out without even realising it. Babe, I know you've been so busy with work, since we had Blue Eyes life's just been slowly getting more and more hectic. I know you've got a load of extra work to do since you took on that research stuff, but I think you need to take a break. A _proper_ break, Bon. Not a night camping in your brother's bit of forest." Marcy replied gently. Bonnie didn't look up to meet her eyes until a hand caught hold of her chin and tilted her face up. Marcy's gaze was filled with concern and love, the last traces of hurt were melting rapidly when she saw how bad the redhead felt about it.

"I will take a break." Bonnie promised. "As soon as I get this research piece finished and I have a second to catch my breath. And I'll involve you in the decision making. I'm sorry."

"It's ok. Come on now, let's pile in next to the kids and get some sleep."

It was very nearly idyllic, in a little tent in a clearing by the glow of a dying camp fire, listening to the people that she loved breathing deeply in their sleep. It almost unwound a little of the tight strain from her shoulders, Bonnie almost felt herself relaxing. Almost. A crack of unexpected thunder from overhead returned the tension with interest.

"Mama, it's thundering!" Philip squealed, wide awake and flinging himself in fear into her arms.

Bonnie's reply was drowned out by the sudden roar of heavy rain pounding against the tent. Next Sofia was awake and crying, then Ingrid was loudly demanding to know why it was so noisy and Marcy was desperately appealing for calm with her voice still sleep cracked and bewildered.

"My feet are getting wet!" Ingrid announced huffily. "Mama, there's water coming into the tent! Do something!"

"Yeah Bon, this was your genius idea. Do something." Marcy added.

Bonnie floundered for the space of a single heartbeat. There was no way she was going to the cabin and waking Ned in the middle of the night, no way there'd even be room for all five of them plus him and Keila and his dogs in there anyway. It was a long drive home and she'd slept for maybe only an hour or two. There was exactly one option left.

"Right, grab anything that isn't wet and throw it into the back of the car. We're going to a hotel."

They were tired, cold, bedraggled and muddy as well as plain miserable by the time the car pulled up outside the nearest decent hotel an hour later. Ingrid would not be convinced to shut up about her wet feet, Sofia had exhausted herself with crying and was tiredly whimpering in her car seat and Philip let out a little scream of fear at every lightning flash or peel of thunder. Luckily there was still a family room available and the receptionist led the way with a knowing smile that took in their various grim expressions and muddy shoes.

"You made it rain." Bonnie murmured into Marcy's ear once she was finally clean and warm again, cuddled in the middle of a pile of sleeping kids and extremely soft blankets.

"How could I have made it rain?" Marcy asked.

"I dunno. Magic? Maybe you just wished it into existence because you hate camping."

"I do not hate camping. I just like hot showers and nice beds. And you don't believe in magic."

"If anyone could do it, it'd be you. You wished for the rain so you could get indoor plumbing."

"Go to sleep, crazy lady. You're exhaustion-babbling."

Tomorrow they'd go and collect the waterlogged remains of the tent, say goodbye to Neddy and Keila, then drive home in time for Hunson, TT, Simon and Betty to descend and make a fuss of Sofia for her second birthday. Tomorrow Bonnie would need to worry about work and research and Dr Bloody Armstrong and budgets and a million other things. But Marcy was right, she needed a break. So instead of letting the knowledge of everything she still needed to do settle like a blanket of ever-present worry across her mind Bonnie simply pushed it aside and concentrated on the sensation of her two daughters on either side snuggling in their sleep, the way she could just about stretch her fingers out in the darkness and stroke a twist of soft, dark hair. Was it Philip's or Marceline's? Impossible to tell without looking and there was no way Bonnie was going to move and disturb her family, not now they were all settled and sleeping peacefully. Just for the one night she let all of her worries fade into the background and let herself relax.


End file.
